The Strangest Kind of Love
by Warlordess
Summary: Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together... Pokeshipping fic.
1. You Make The First Move

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . . I own Dr. Sampson! Only, kind of not really, because, like I noted at the bottom, I stole the last name from one of my bestest gal-pals, Ashley!

**Notes **- I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. Anyway, I think I'm going to add this chapter as a, er. . . test-drive? You know, because the idea might be a little too different, or a little too popular. . . I don't know, I'm hardly able to get online and search for myself anymore.

So please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter One **- "You Make the First Move"

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **February **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially created **February 8th - 11th **of **2006**.

**O**o**O**o**O**

The years had changed them; there was no doubt about that.

Brock's refined skills had brought to fruit the greatest breeding center in the whole of the Kanto region, and he was thoroughly proud of it. He had yet to find a girl desperate enough to think his blubbering hormones worthy of her attention, but he at least recognized that he had a problem and had learned to seek medical attention. As his physician said, acceptance was the first step to recovery. And he was getting there, he knew, as he continued living off of the profits from his small breeding center in Pewter.

Tracey was still sticking it out under Professor Oak's mighty wing, and very eagerly so. He'd published two books already, now, and was working on another as he continued his apprenticeship.

Gary was still traveling off and on, although it wasn't as a Pokemon trainer. Under the technological guidance of his grandfather, he journeyed the regions, studying Pokemon and their ability to evolve. He used certain devices and calculations to devise if there was a chance of more types of evolutions that were still unheard of between certain already discovered Pokemon. He was well-known for his scientific conclusion that Nidoking and Tyranitar were distant brothers, and for his geographical mapping systems for young and eager trainers that helped deduce Pokemon migration patterns throughout the year.

Max had returned home after traveling the Hoenn and Kanto regions and succeeding in both of the leagues by coming in tenth place or above. He was now the proud leader of the Petalburg Gym at the tender age of sixteen. His parents, although not permanently retired, had taken a long-term vacation to the Orange Islands for now.

May, after finding out that her former home was in the more-than-capable hands of her brother (although she'd never tell him she thought that), had taken up residence with her boyfriend Drew in Viridian City. They'd been dating for nine months and had been thinking about renting out an apartment together for awhile at the time, but hadn't been brave enough to bring it up with May's parents until they heard that, otherwise, they wouldn't have another chance, as the Beech's were going to be leaving the country.

Caroline and Norman trusted their daughter, however, and as she'd traveled the regions with two boys for three years earlier on in her life and handled herself just fine, they were sure that they had nothing to worry about. Besides, from what they'd seen, May and Drew seemed to be so in love that nothing could deter that relationship, let alone their personal opinion about it. So the Beech's entrusted their daughter's health to the young Coordinating Champion, who indeed took splendid care with her.

Ash's mom, Delia, and Professor Samuel Oak had been wed two years before, and since then, had moved in together. They now resided in the large laboratory/home at the edge of Pallet Town, down the road from the old Ketchum house, where, unfortunately, Ash was to live alone.

This had proved to be a problem for Ash, although he wouldn't have told his mom that, because, if he did, he would have upset her. As was proven through his many years of traveling on the road, he hated spending evening after evening alone. And while he had Pikachu there with him, the companionship was limited. It was still strange, somehow, to know that he had grown to understand his Pokemon's language, but even so. . . Anyone else who happened to overhear the two of them talking would presume that he was insane.

And he couldn't just leave the house. The mortgage still hadn't been completely paid, and he couldn't sell because his mother wouldn't allow it. There were too many memories there. It was such a beautiful starter family home, it probably would have been off of the market in less than a month, but the portraits hanging from the walls and the faded and age-old items laying in boxes in the attic proved that the grains in the oak, the places where you put the tranquil feelings of love and comfort and sadness and anger and, well, everything that was related to a family. . . all of that was already taken. It already belonged to the Ketchum family. Giving it up then would have been a waste. There was no point.

So Ash lived there alone, not having the ability to leave for months at a time to travel, otherwise the place would be left to turn decrepit, which was also not an option. And so he was going to have to find other things to occupy his time. He found himself in the middle of a couple of odd jobs, for none of them ever lasted long, and even a couple of relationships. . .

And for Misty, life had been rather crazy. After returning home, yet again, she was made to take up partial Gym leadership in Cerulean because Violet and Lilly couldn't care less and Daisy still hadn't gained enough prowess in her training ability to take over on her own. Times were hard. The dream of becoming Pokemon Master was sought after by so many that Misty was forced to battle at least five times a day. Her Pokemon were always exhausted. Given, Gym Leaders were allowed to turn down a challenge, but what excuse would she give to the trainers who asked? Her Pokemon were too weak and worn out to take them on? Yea, right. She wouldn't allow _that _phrase to leave her mouth.

And then things started falling apart. The ceiling tiles were being flooded out in the arena because of all of the water-oriented battles, the plumbing was leaking and stopping up more often than not, taxes were going up and soon the expenses for Pokemon care and food, along with their own, were becoming too much to afford on a couple thousand dollars a week. It didn't help that Misty's sisters spent quite a bit on manicures and hair appointments. All three of the Sensational Sisters (and Misty) had to get part-time jobs.

Misty had an incentive, however, to keep going. She knew things would fall into place, eventually. Already, things were starting to get better. She'd been picking up a few things at the market when some guy had walked up to her and charmed her into a date. She'd felt so flattered that she'd accepted. And then, a few days later, she'd gotten a call from Brock. A very interesting call.

Brock had told her that his breeding center was doing very well and that he could afford to close up shop every once and awhile. He'd already talked with May and Ash and both of them could afford some time off from work to meet and catch up with everyone. He'd set up a date for the following Tuesday in Viridian at a quaint cafe in the middle of town, and he was hoping she could find a way there.

Things were maddening for her at the moment. Things were disgustingly maddening. But she couldn't afford to miss a chance to finally see her friends again.

Misty leant all of her Pokemon to Daisy that Tuesday in hopes that the extra powerhouse would give her older sister the ability she needed to win. And then she took the Houndoom Bus out through Mt. Moon and past Pewter City, before making it around Viridian Forest.

It was the first time she'd seen them in, quite literally, years. It had been so long. . . They talked for hours about all sorts of things, whether they were of importance or not. It just felt so wonderful to be near them all again, she knew that she wouldn't let herself give this up if she could help it.

Unfortunately, there were times when she couldn't. As she knew, she couldn't always afford to take the bus through Mt. Moon, and there were times when she was far too exhausted from working her two jobs to walk through all of that (and she wasn't in the mood for learning how loud she could scream as she remembered the pathway through Viridian Forest). As much as she hated to cancel, she found herself calling Brock up in lieu of an apology more than once.

And then her boyfriend broke up with her, claiming that she didn't seem to have enough free time for "them". They had been dating for seven months, things were starting to get serious, _she _was starting to get serious; she was beginning to think that. . . he might have just been the one she could have spent the rest of her life with. After that blow, work at the gym became somehow twice as hard, but her sisters lacked what she needed most at the time; a sympathetic ear. And so, even though she couldn't remember where she pulled the strength from, she found herself attending the first bi-weekly meeting in almost three months.

**O**o**O**

". . . And then, well, I asked her to move in with me. . ."

"Ash. . . !" Brock said, looking rightly appalled, "I would have expected that of myself, but, well, you've always put quite a self-restraint on yourself when it came to the ladies! What's been your problem lately? This isn't the first time!"

Ash scowled. Misty couldn't help the small grin that formed on her lips. Brock was, of course, just toying with him. Of all of the years they'd known Ash, he'd never shown so much of an interest in girls. While hormones had an inkling to do with it, they all knew that, in the end, he was simply maturing. He had that large family home in Pallet just sitting there and he was the only one occupying it at the moment. . . It was only natural to want to find someone else to move in with him.

"It's only the second, Brock! The second girl I've asked in the second relationship I've been in over the course of three years and the second girl whose turned me down! She said that she hadn't been looking for something so serious at the moment, and then she just walked out the door. I tried calling her the next day and she freaked out on me, saying that obviously I was a bit dense if I didn't get it when someone was trying to break it off with me. . ." Ash finished and ducked down, allowing his forehead to collapse against the surface of the table.

"Well, you _are_. . ." Misty started, but Brock and May glanced in her direction to stop her before she could continue. The expressions in their eyes were fairly obvious. She really had no place to talk about something so deep, considering how little she'd been involved in their lives as of late, "Er, so. . . May, how's your relationship going with Drew?"

Misty felt just a tad ping of jealousy make its way through her at the blissful sigh that elicited itself from her best female friend.

"It's so. . . wonderful, you guys. I mean, I never would have expected it of him when we were kids, somehow, but he treats me like I'm the greatest thing in the world. We have this daily tradition where he leaves a rose in bed, in my hands for my to wake up to, and he's always telling me he loves me, and. . . Well, I've been worried since we haven't. . . you know. . . gone all the way yet. . ." At this point in time, May broke off and she and Misty suppressed a laugh at the uncomfortable expressions on both Ash and Brock's faces, ". . . that he's going to think I'm just holding out on him all this time and leave me. . . but he told me a few days ago that it doesn't matter if we never do it, because he didn't fall in love with me for my body so many years ago." ((1))

While Ash and Brock seemed to be edging around in their seats at the topic, Misty felt herself swoon. That, after all, was the type of guy she wanted to meet, the type of guy she wanted to fall in love with, the type of guy she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. . . If only there had been more of them born out there into the world. (Given, it's not like she was a virgin anymore, but the point was, she wanted to be in a relationship where romance was to the point, and sex was to wait until after phase five, "the honeymoon".)

"So, Misty, what about you and - and that guy you were dating? What was his name. . . ? Something like. . . er. . . Trevor. . . ?" May asked.

"Terrance." Misty corrected, and flicked at the straw wrapper sitting on their booth table in front of her in frustration, "And it's over, thanks very much. He ended it with me about a week ago, saying that I didn't have enough time for him or something. It's not like we did much when we went out anyways. . . !" Her thunderous personality getting the better of her, Misty's fists collided with the table a bit harder than she first intended and everyone in the cafe turned to stare, ". . . _Oops_. . . But, really, I mean, I thought things were going really well with the guy. We went out almost once a week and he never complained to me before. . ." She moaned for a moment, "I wish he would have just said something to me. . . Then I could have tried to fix it somehow."

"Well, maybe it just wasn't supposed to work out." Ash shrugged. Misty turned and glared. How dare _he _try to lecture her on relationships when he couldn't even handle one of his own? "I mean, you said things seemed to be going so well beforehand, but if he never brought it up with you that he was unhappy, then he was probably looking for a way out way before all that." Misty's glare only deepened. And how dare her best friend be right about it!

"Hn." Was all she chose to reply. She couldn't trust herself with anything more than that.

"So, Brock, how's the breeding center going? And, er, the _treatment_. . . ?" Ash quirked an eyebrow as though the topic might be off-bounds in such a public place, but Brock swatted a sugar packet at him as he went to empty it into what was left of his coffee.

"It's just fine, Ash. The income from the center has allowed me to take the best of care of the gym, which my father has retained leadership of over the years, thank god, and the 'treatment' is. . . getting there. There are twelve steps. I've been in the program for months, and I've only gotten to step three."

"While it's amazing to believe that there's even a program for your type of problem to begin with, I would have thought the recovery rate would be a lot faster. Why only step three after so long. . . ?" Misty asked, also glad to have attended this meeting just so that she could catch up with her friends.

"It's because," and here May had to break off and allow herself a chance to giggle, "he keeps having relapses. . ." They caught sight of their oldest friend hungrily eyeing a waitress who was attempting to hand a receipt to the customer sitting just behind them, and Ash pinched Brock's arm to wake him back up.

"Not now, Brocko; I'm really not in the mood to deal with it."

"Fine, fine; then I suggest we wrap this up for today. And. . ." He rubbed his arm awkwardly, which was starting to turn a bit red, "Not so hard next time. So, I'll get the tab?" He asked them, raising his hand, and the same waitress began walking towards them, but May tackled him and held his arm down and Ash pulled out his wallet.

"Not a chance. I've got it today." He said with a grin at the disappointed look on the breeder's face and the confused one on the young female waitresses.

After the bill had been paid, May began her trek back to her apartment and Brock made his way to the town's PokeMart. That was what he did every other week, because he liked to inspect the public product and test the ingredients against his own inventions. Ash was left to walk Misty to the bus stop, which would take her back through the forest, Pewter, Mt. Moon, and into Cerulean. It really was a grueling trip.

"So. . . this was the first time I've seen you in awhile, Myst. What's been keeping you lately? You know, we actually start to miss you when you're not there." He joked as he walked at her side with his arms held up behind his head and a nonchalant expression on his face.

"You might not see me for another long time, yet. It's getting so expensive for me to travel all the way out here every other week. I've got responsibilities, Ash. . . And, unfortunately, they call for a lot of my time. I do a lot of battling at the gym, and I've got a second job at a local convenience store. We don't have any private maintenance teams or anything; we have to pay them all ourselves. And it's been so long since my sisters have thought about taking responsibility for something, since I'm always there to bail them out. . ." Misty ended with a wry grin that betrayed the bags under her eyes.

"You look rather exhausted." He noted soundly, "Maybe you should take a break, go on vacation; everyone deserves one at some point."

"I can't afford to do that right now." She yawned a bit as they reached the bus stop and took seats on the bench beside the road, waiting, "Daisy still needs help with her training, and Lilly and Violet won't do anything on their own unless I'm there to bite their heads off everyday and remind them that we've got bills to pay and mouths to feed, namely our own. Maybe, if they'd just be a bit more responsible with our profits. . . I never would have thought my family would be living on the verge of poverty is all. . ."

Ash frowned as her eyelids drooped. He'd wondered for awhile why she hadn't been attending their meetings, been a little worried, and angry, because he thought that she thought that he, May, and Brock weren't worth her time. And now he understood. And he didn't like the fact that she felt she was healthy enough to come to this one. She seemed to be sagging into her shoes.

"Well, the bus won't be coming for another. . ." Ash checked his wristwatch, ". . . five or ten minutes. . . Why don't you catch your breath? Take a little nap?"

"Nah. . . Can't afford to do that. . . The ticket I bought is non-refundable. . . If I miss my bus, I can't afford to buy my way back and, like you said, I don't look awake enough to walk all the way there. Plus I left my Pokemon with Daisy to take care of the gym." She yawned again and, whether she noticed it or not, her head was tilting slowly but surely against Ash's shoulder and her eyelids were closing in a relieved sort of way.

"It's not like I'd let you miss your bus!" Ash didn't seem to be noticing what was going on either, but at the tone of his rather exasperated voice, Misty's eyes blinked open again and she sat up straight, stretching herself inconspicuously so that she ended up moving just a few inches away from him.

She chose not to reply and so they sat in silence for the next few minutes. Soon Misty heard the slightly familiar groaning of a large engine and a giant bus with a straight logo of a Houndoom dashing at high speed on its side came towards them. She reached her feet and Ash joined her and he seemed to be working his way up to saying something, and then he found his tongue.

"You know, i - if you ever. . . I mean, I've got all that extra space, and no one to share it with. So, if you ever need a place to crash for a few days or something like that. . . be sure to call me up." He grinned sheepishly at her as the bus came to a stop in front of them and Misty made herself busy searching her pockets for her ticket, noting the slight embarrassment that made itself known by the colouring on her cheeks. She was _way _too old for this.

"Thanks, Ash. . ." She returned the smile and gave him a small hug before jumping onboard and disappearing from his immediate view.

**O**o**O**

Half a week later, things had basically returned to normal. Ash was back to doing the simple odd jobs, May was involved in the perfect relationship, Brock was on his way to recovery, and Misty was still being thoroughly overworked. She knew that she should've argued with her sisters the first time she felt just a bit nauseated at the feeling of the sun in her eyes. She knew she should have asked for a break or two every so often. . . but no one could simply put to rest a mountain-range of fears when they thought that their home could be taken away from them.

She had to keep working.

But there was a problem with that, even though she hadn't told anyone yet. She had been so exhausted yesterday after her shift at the convenience store that she'd not done the weekly paperwork for the Gym. It was still sitting upstairs, on her desk, in her bedroom. And now she was avoiding it, stressing over a fifteen year old challenger who was actually putting up a pretty good fight, pitting his Ratticate against her Starmie.

Misty wasn't focusing on the battle. However she could spare the eyesight to concentrate on the flecking paintjob of the arena, the stained wooden benches that needed replacing, the flickering lights in the raised high ceiling. . . There was just so much work to do. . . Why did she have to take so much responsibility here. . . ? Why was her family so far in debt at this point?

She turned to glance at her siblings, the only three people to also find shelter in the shabby-looking stadium. Daisy was cheering her on with one arm while the other continuously matted down her permed hair, afraid that the moisture in the air would make it curl. Lilly and Violet were busily applying eyeliner and lip gloss to their already pasty faces.

Misty rolled her eyes. Oh, yea. _That _was why.

She'd always wondered how her sisters thought themselves beautiful like that. Given, she had her own complexity, but that could have been their fault, too. . . ((2))

Her brow creased. It was funny, though. Daisy was supposed to be cheering her on, but she couldn't hear anything. Had the oldest Sensational Sister learned Mime? And, come to think of it, Misty was in the middle of a battle. . . She should be hearing battle cries, sloshing water. . . Yet, there was nothing.

_What a strange. . . feeling. . ._

She fainted.

Three and a half hours later, she woke up again at Cerulean General Hospital. Her sisters were there and, for once, seemed more worried for her sake then for the mascara that was slipping down their cheeks with the tears leaking from behind their eyelids. There was an I.V. supplying liquid food straight into her body, sugar basically, probably because Daisy had noticed she hadn't had much of a chance to eat much in the past couple of days and had told the doctors that. Still, that couldn't have been what had caused all of this, right?

"Like, little sister. . . ! We were so worried! Don't you ever do that again!" Her oldest sister told her after seeing that she was awake. She looked ready to fling herself at the youngest of the family, whether out of violence or relief was unsure, but she did manage to hold herself at bay, which Misty was grateful for, because she realized only a moment later that she was the victim of a monstrous headache.

"What happened?" Misty asked after all three of her old siblings had calmed down enough to answer her questions. She toyed with a hole in the messily thin blanket covering her, "Er, start with the results of the Pokemon battle I was in the middle of, I guess. I already know the drama that started it all."

"Well, like, you were kind of losing that one anyways since you were spacing off so much, but it was a bit lucky. . ." Violet contained the urge to giggle here, finding something funny, "The kid saw you, like, collapse and ran off before we could do or say anything to him. He might have thought it was his fault, for all we know." She shrugged.

"Anyway, we didn't really know what caused it either, so Daisy went to, like, call an ambulance, Violet returned Starmie to its Pokeball, and I managed to get you off of the ground. We raised you between us and laid you down on the spectator benches and, like, waited. We were so totally freaking out. You haven't given us such a run for our money since you ran off when you were eleven years old. . ." Lilly continued.

"Then the ambulance got there and, like, checked your vitals and stuff and, well, your blood pressure was, like, totally manic-high so they said that that, along with you fainting, was enough of an excuse to bring you straight here." Daisy gave a wry grin. "And then they asked for some information and we kind of went off on the bat; we mentioned stuff like your name and your blood-type, and then your medical allergies because we were sure they needed to know that, and then they asked us what might have caused this, and, well, like we would know, right? So we told them about the stress of the Gym. . ."

". . . Which they said explained the exceedingly high blood pressure. . ." Violet interrupted.

". . . And the second job. . ." Lilly continued.

". . . And the less-than-adequate meal choices. . ." Violet went on.

". . . Which they said were all unhealthy risk factors for a young working female, especially when considered long-term." Daisy finished.

". . . Oh." Was the only thing Misty could conclude.

This was just in time for a young male to make his entrance into the room, a young male with short auburn hair and a long white coat. His geeky authenticity was completed with the pocket-protector visible by all four women sitting patiently in their seats.

"Miss Waterflower, is it?" He asked in a nonchalant fashion, flipping one page, and then another on a clipboard that he'd picked up from just outside the door. He didn't look up to see them nod their ascent, but was instead reading over the report that the paramedics had prepared, along with the medical history that Daisy, Violet, and Lilly had made him well-aware of, "My name is Dr. Sampson."

"Uhm, I know this might make me sound clinicly insane, but I have a second job, and my shift is going to be starting in. . ." Misty took a moment to let her eyes graze the wall for a clock since her wristwatch had been removed along with all other personal items, but there wasn't one, "Er, what time is it?"

"Oh, don't worry about that." He said, and the grin that suddenly appeared on his face was almost sickly, "You see, the ill shouldn't be worried about time, whether it's about how much they have left, or how much they have until they're able to leave here. Just take it all in pace. And you. . ." He unclipped a pen from his white coat and began scribbling almost furiously on the clipboard, ". . . are going to need at least a few day's rest before you will be allowed to return to work. And that's my professional opinion. I won't be keeping you overnight for observation, but I'm requesting that you take an extended leave of absence from your job, for a couple of weeks, I suppose. And then, I want you to hold shift for a maximum of five hours a day for at least a month."

"You can't be serious!" Misty said, her jaw dropping. She felt her fists clenching at the worn through material of the ragged blanket thrown overtop her, "I have things to do, obligations! I have responsibilities to my family, and bills to pay!"

"Yes, about that. . ." At this point, Dr. Sampson turned to her older sisters, who were looking just as disbelieving as her, "I don't think that your current environment would be the best for you while in your state of recovery. Well, it is my personal view on the matter that you locate somewhere else to stay, lest you find yourself right back here, and in far worse shape than this time around. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" He went back to signing off on the referalls held to the clipboard for a moment before managing to undo them from the clasp and holding them out for her to take them, "I know that when you get back to this crazy life, you'll want to be at full health, right?"

Misty's gaze dropped to the bedspread again. That was true. A couple weeks here and now would probably do her a lot more good than a ton of ignorance and medical bills covered in even more expenses later on. . .

". . . Yes."

"Good. So, then, I suppose that you also have a place to stay?"

"Actually. . . I think that I do."

He smiled at her, "Good for you."

**O**o**O**o**O**

((1)) - I decided that, even after all of these years, May would keep her modesty. Eh, I guess that's all that I really have to say on the topic.

((2)) - About Misty's, er, "complexity". . . Well, you won't find out much about it until a lot later on into the fic, way later on. . . Let's just say it has a lot to do with her relationship with her sisters and her sex-life. It may seem kind of funny, but it's almost sad when you hear of it, yourself. . .

((Other anonymous things that probably should have gotten tagged with a number but didn't)) --

**Brock's Medical Assistance **- Well, doesn't he need some after all this time?

**Mrs. Ketchum and Prof. Oak's marriage **- I'm not even sure if I am an _Eldershipper_, but for the sake of this story, Ash had to live alone, and, well, Delia shouldn't have to be dead or shoved out onto the streets for that to happen, so I figured this was good enough.

**The Contestshipping **- Woohoo! Finally a fic with some _Contestshipping_! And there's going to be this one chapter that centers on their relationship in particular! . . . But that's not until chapter ten. . . Poo. . .

**Notes - **Oh, my God, I am so going to enjoy writing this. . . I guess that I should first-off thank my friend Ashley (er, Silvie-chan) for lending me her last name, even though she won't know it until she reads the fic. . . Or until I tell her. Lol. Over the course of writing just this first chapter up on my foster-mom's computer, I've gone from having eight chapters summarized, to having -**goes to check**- eleven chapters summarized. And eleven's going to be a doozie. Lol.

Yea! So, next chapter, Ash and Misty will have moved in together in Pallet Town! Woohoo! But it's a long step from the perfect living arrangement! They've got no boundaries, unfortunately, and everyone's naturally assuming that they're together! (Actually, only May assumes that, but the thought's a funny one just the same.) Crap! And then, during their next bi-weekly meeting, which Misty now has the time and money to attend, Brock suggests throwing a housewarming party to welcome her to the neighborhood! He even agrees to cater it! But will it help with Ash and Misty's more personal disagreements?

Huh. . . I think that actually counted as a spoiler. . . Er, beware the spoiler! -**points above**- Though I guess it's too late to warn you all now. . . Lol. . .

Er, do I still get reviews, or are your lives so busy in today's world that you can't grace me with a few of those? Remember, this fic, for right now, is like a test-drive type-of-thing. I won't continue it at the moment unless you _really _want me to and request it in your reviews. . . Unless _I _really want me to. -**grins**- But just because I don't update this one doesn't mean that I'll be updating anything else, either. . . So sorry. . .


	2. And My Retaliation Is Fierce

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes **- Oh, look, I've got a few reviews for the first chapter! -**cheers**- Thanks for those. Anyway, eh hem, let's see. . . Oh, yes, I got quite a few. . . I guess I could call them complaints, but I could also call them concerns, as well, so I'll address them anonymously so that this fic doesn't get deleted for my breaking the FFN rule that states I can't reply directly to reviewers. . . -**rolls eyes at the stupidity of FFN staff, then hopes they don't ban me for that comment**- But I'll wait until the end of the chapter to get to that. . .

Now, onto the fic!

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter One **- "And My Retaliation is Fierce"

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **February **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially created **February 13th - 17th **of **2006**.

**O**o**O**o**O**

Ash and May found themselves driving out to Cerulean the day after Misty's collapse.

May had taken to renting out a mini-van. This Ash had to ask himself about, as he wasn't brave enough to question May. Why did she have to rent something so big? They were just going to pick up Misty. . . What with the price of gas, the last thing they should be trying to do is drive halfway around Kanto in such a barrel of a vehicle. . . But maybe the automotive center just didn't have anything else in stock at the moment. It was a beautiful summer day; college students probably wanted to get out of their dorm rooms and run rampant across the beaches of Vermillion, and it wasn't like _they _were going to risk being seen by their friends driving a mini-van.

Ash turned to May and his brow creased as they turned out of the tourist passing valley of Mt. Moon. He could tell that she was worried by the way her back was hunched. Her forehead was practically crushed against the steering wheel as though urging the car to go faster, but she was acting remarkably calm on the outside. They knew that Misty was fine; they'd talked to her just yesterday after she'd been released from the hospital, but that hadn't allayed May's fears. . . Misty was one of her best friends after all, her best female friend, and her only confidante, really. They'd grown very close over the years.

Of course, as Ash turned back to face ahead again, he was worried too. It wasn't like Misty wasn't his best friend. But he also knew that he'd have plenty of time to discover if she was truly alright once they were settled in together. . . And then his brow knitted again, his thoughts turning back to her collapse. . . He'd told her last week that she should have slowed down. . . ! Why hadn't she listened to him? What, did she think that it was a conspiracy? That he was planning on ruining everything she'd been working so hard for while attempting to maintain a lesser front of friendship with her? Whoa, talk about crazy. . .

And while Ash proved that _he _was crazy for allowing these thoughts to go through his mind, May pressed down hard on the brake pedal, causing them to come to a sudden stop.

". . . We're here! Now, come on, Ash!" And May pulled the keys from the ignition and grabbed a hold of Ash's arm, attempting to rip him from his seat and pull him out of her side of the car. It probably would have been easier, first-off, if he'd had his seatbelt removed, and if he'd just tried to get out of his own side, and he tried to tell her that, by way of choking to death, ". . . Oh, alright, Ash; I get it! But c'mon, really!"

As Ash managed his way out of the vehicle and followed after the young Hoenn foreigner, he caught his first sight of the Cerulean Gym in, what he suddenly realized had been, quite a few years. He'd have liked to imagine that it looked just the same as it always had, but he'd be lying, of course. The truth was, it was in near-shambles compared to its former glory.

Shaking his head and making a mental note not to mention his opinion to Misty, he slouched in through the sliding double doors after May, barely taking notice of a large pile of black bags sitting by the main desk. He looked up and around the lobby and caught sight of May, practically a nervous wreck for fear that Misty's condition was worse than it seemed, as she threw herself at the redhead, who had taken to sitting on one of the trainers' couches until her friends arrived to pick her up.

"Oh, no, Misty, your complexion, you look so pale and exhausted. . . ! Should you really be traveling this soon after being released from the hospital? Maybe we should wait until tomorrow to take you to Pallet!" May wheedled affectionately, and Ash and Misty both sighed from their positions at the girl's eager attitude, "And this seat isn't at all comfortable! Why are you down here? You should be upstairs, resting! Have you eaten anything today? Should we maybe stop somewhere and pick up some food? Ash brought some extra cash, so we can afford to. . ."

". . . Awe, c'mon, May, stop treating me like I'm some special charity case. I mean, thanks for the help, but I don't need all of this attention." Misty smiled at her to show that she was as healthy as she could stand to be at that point in time, before turning to Ash, "So, how's it going. . . ?"

Okay. It was time for the lecture circuit.

"Didn't I tell you to settle down last week after our meeting? Didn't I say you should chill out, ask for some time off, take a break or a vacation or whatever? What's your problem, Myst?" Well, that was fun. . . Unfortunately, he'd chosen to come out with it wrong. May knew that the best thing to do would be to back away, as Misty rose from her seat, having taken Ash's choice words of concern the wrong way, but she also knew this wasn't the best time for the redhead to be getting excited.

She attempted to open her mouth to say something about this, but, as was always the case, Misty was able to prove once again that she was quite capable of having the loudest voice in the entirety of the Kanto region, and anything May might have been working up to was drowned out completely.

"Are you kidding me, Ash Ketchum? No 'How are you?' No 'It's good to see you!' What the hell happened to those good old fashioned greetings?" She asked, taking a step forward and shrieking just as she used to when they were teenagers.

"Oh, I don't know. . . They probably went flying out the window just like the modesty you threw away instead of using to take my advice! Really, Misty, how hard is it to really understand that I - that _all _of us - only care about you, and that's why we say things like that, and like this, even if they're not what you want to hear!" Ash shouted back, also taking a step forward. Unbelievably so, the whole 'yelling-themselves-hoarse-while-moving-ever-steadily-closer-together' thing was how their fighting had always worked. . .

"I would have taken your advice, but that was only if I was desperate enough to think that anything you had to say was worth my time! And anyway, I didn't think that my condition was that bad off!" She allowed herself to admit, and as she faltered, Ash was pleased to see the embarrassed scarlet patches colouring her cheeks. Suddenly, mid-glare, her eyesight wavered and she stepped back and regained her seat beside May, who looked ready and willing to flip out and attack Ash in her place if it was needed.

Thankfully, it wasn't, as he too came to understand what was happening and allowed her a moments' rest.

"Uhm. . . are you okay?" He asked her, keeping a certain distance from her so that she didn't decide to jump him and slam him upside the head with one of her mallets at the last second. It was a wistful thought, actually. All of these years, all of these changes they'd gone through, and yet he knew that she wouldn't hesitate to do so, even now. Yet, reminiscent of those memories or not, he wasn't ready to actually experience them again; not by a long-shot.

"I'm just fine, Ash. . ." She said, and then lifted both of her hands and placed her fingers to her temples to rub tenderly. She squinted horribly up at him, though, as though attempting to glare and prove that she was still quite managing to maintain her angry demeanor.

"Don't worry, Misty." May attempted to console her, and then, by way of comfort, she continued with an afterthought, "I brought a mini-van." When next Ash saw Misty and May glance at each other, both of their faces held identical sadistic smirks. And then they turned to face him, with those fixated expressions of the utmost cruelty and evil upon them, and he knew then that he was doomed.

"Ash, could you help me take my bags to the car? I. . . I think that I can manage to help you out that much. . ." And possibly putting to use a bit too much of that acting she'd learned from her sisters over the years, Misty forced herself to her feet, placed a woesome hand to her head, gave a damsel-ish moan, and made to take a few steps forward.

"Uh, no, Myst, I - I mean, really. . . You shouldn't be putting yourself through so much duress if you don't think your body can handle it. Don't worry; I've got this. So. . . where are these bags of yours?" Ash said, looking around, and Misty allowed the 'woesome hand' to drop back to her side as she regained her spot next to May and the two young women exchanged a very suppressed grin of victory (if it hadn't been suppressed, it probably would have been a contemptible laugh or somewhat that would have scared Ash from the Gym, or the city entirely).

And then she pointed to the very large pile of black bags sitting beside the main desk.

Ash's eyes widened, and he gulped, knowing now that he'd clearly fallen into a trap. He clamped his eyes tightly shut, counted to three, opened them again, as though willing the horrible task at hand to go away, but those huge, heavy-looking bags were still there. . . He turned to look at Misty and May, but both of them gave him the full onslaught of their baby-blue-eyed, "We're in need of a big, strong man!" stare, and Misty mocked her former actions of looking less-than-healthy (which might not have been all mocking in any case), and he was basically putty in their hands.

What could he say?

He really did like all of the attention.

But then he turned back to the pile of bags. Just on the top of his head, he was able to catch sight of seven. _Seven_. Wasn't Misty only going to be staying with him for two weeks? It was true that growing up had indeed allowed her to expand her fashionable horizons, but really. . . What could she be keeping in there? The thought had crossed his mind before Ash realized. . . there was no way in hell that he ever wanted to find out. A girl's mind had always been so complicating to him as a teenager; how much easier could he expect a woman's mind to be?

Ugh. He was going to need loads of therapy after this, he was sure.

Shaking his head, he pretended to roll up a pair of sleeves on his shirt (he was actually wearing a tee-shirt, but he always saw guys doing this when they were getting ready to start working on something for their lady friends) and strode forward, throwing one very large bag over each of his shoulders and resigning to his job as. . . well. . . for lack of a better word, "pool-boy."

Hey, as the leader of the Cerulean City Gym, he was sure Misty would have it no other way.

"May, can you go unlock the trunk of the van for me. . . ? Er, Myst, are you. . . sure you've got everything?" He asked, regretting it almost instantly and visibly flinching. He couldn't even begin to imagine what could be missing. "I mean, you'll be staying at my place for at least two weeks, right? You've got all of your stuff? Your toothbrush? Your, er, womanly. . . things?" He made to dash out the front door with his face entirely scarlet when he saw her reach for her mallet at the mention of said. . . things. But then she stopped and blinked almost confusedly as May went to pop open the back of the vehicle they'd be taking back to Pallet Town.

"You. . . you mean, I'm staying with you for. . . _both _weeks?" She almost squeaked. Okay, and now he was confused. How could she not know that? Wasn't that how they'd set this up? "No, I mean I thought that I was just staying for one; you know, because then I could at least get a start on my immediate recovery without being able to run off with my mistress!"

"Er. . . Your mistress?"

"Oh, when some people become too attached to their jobs, then sometimes those jobs often get referred to as their 'mistresses'. Heh, and with all of the things I've got to do. . . I feel. . . guilty. . . running off like this. . . No matter how much my sisters might deserve it, since it's their fault we're in this position in the first place. . ." And Misty did something that Ash found totally unexpected next off, and that was that she collapsed once again back onto that ever-faithful lobby couch and placed her face into her hands, allowing a dry sob to escape her.

Ash dropped her bags cautiously at his feet, feeling a wave of sympathy wash over him. He knew what it was like, what Misty was talking about, or what she wasn't talking about, since she hadn't exactly been clear when she'd just crumpled into tears so suddenly. . . but, for once, he understood that it wasn't one of those things he would never really get, those things he'd dubbed as a 'girl thing', or a 'Misty thing'.

"Myst, c'mon, really. . ." He said soothingly, "Ah. . ." He commented almost blushingly when he realized that his voice was cracking too, but then, the conversation topic was hitting mightily close to home, "You're not. . . Don't think that you're _abandoning _them."

This comment brought a gasp from Misty, and, almost quakingly, she raised her face to gaze unblinkingly at Ash, silently questioning how he could possibly know exactly how she felt that way.

"Well, every Pokemon trainer feels it at some point on their journey, I guess." He replied sheepishly, one of his hands sweeping to the back of his neck and grasping at it embarrassingly, "I mean, I felt it way back when, the day I first started out. Do you know how hard it is to leave the one person who brought you into this world, who taught you how to walk and talk, even if it is to try and attain your dreams? And even with her blessing?" He finished in addition.

"But. . . but I'm not a trainer anymore, Ash! This has nothing to do with my dreams anymore! So where is this sense coming from?"

"I think it's maybe. . . a delayed reaction, of sorts. . ." She was obviously perplexed, and so he continued, "Well, remember how you left here to start your journey to becoming a Water Master years ago? It was after an argument with your sisters, a selfish, biting argument that I really know nothing about, but I'm just going on what I know about your family. . ." He finished before she could comment, "What I'm getting at is, at that time, you probably wouldn't have been worried about what you were leaving behind. Now, though, well, you and Daisy are getting pretty close, aren't you? She's started training and, whether you like it or not, you've gotten older and wiser and, well, you have better judgment than to believe that your sisters can handle this place without you for such a long time on such short notice, and without any guidance."

She couldn't help but smile at him. It was good to know she had friends who could show up at times when she didn't know what to think of herself anymore, friends who could undoubtedly reassure her that she was a good person.

"Uhm, Ash, what are you still doing in here? I went and opened the trunk of the van for you, but that was almost ten minutes ago. . ." May said, hopping back in through the sliding main doors to the Cerulean Gym, and Ash got back to his feet, finally remembering that he was supposed to be Misty's universal slave-boy for the time being.

"Er, so, why don't you go get. . . whatever it was you still needed. . . ? You know, now that we're clear that you're spending _both _weeks at my place?" Ash told her absentmindedly, as he picked up the two bags he'd dropped and continued out the entrance, dreading how limp his limbs were going to end up being by the end of this.

"Oh, that? Ash, really, obviously I was joking. . . I mean, honestly, isn't twelve bags enough?" She asked him and he nearly tripped over himself.

"_Twelve_?" Men stronger than him would have broken down and started crying, but no; not Ash Ketchum.

It took nearly half-an-hour to get everything packed into the van and, by that time, Misty seemed to have regained an almost remarkable amount of strength, something that Ash couldn't help but notice. Just as he was about to start another one of their biting arguments, she brought up a conversation of her own.

"Hey, Ash, where's Pikachu?"

"Oh, uh. . . well, when I travel out of town nowadays, I usually end up leaving him at Professor Oak's ranch with all of my other Pokemon. He gets his exercise and all of the apples and Poke-Chow he wants, and he gets to interact with all of his friends, and all at no expense to me. I think it's better, anyway, than bringing him out here like this, cramping him up in a car for hours at a time. I don't think Pokemon were meant to ever live that way. Maybe in Pokeballs, but, well, somehow those things don't seem to me to be designed too small to contain the creatures, and Pikachu never liked them anyway, you know?" Ash replied, and Misty nodded, "So, what about your sisters?"

"Oh, well, after what happened yesterday, the League let us close down the gym for today. . . They didn't want to end up having us inadvertently scaring off anymore challengers. . . Lilly and Violet are working their shifts at their other jobs right now and Daisy's taking a nap upstairs. . ."

"Or, well, she, like, was. . ." Said a new voice from behind them, and the blonde appeared on the first floor landing, yawning yet still looking somehow attractive in her nature. "You two have got to work out your issues if you're going to be living together; there was, like, no way for me to sleep through that. . ."

"But. . ." Ash started, completely oblivious, ". . . our fight was almost an hour ago. . . What took you so long to get down here? Did you forget where the staircase was or something?"

"No. . ." Misty sighed almost irritably as her eldest sister reached her side, "Fortunately, Ash, you're the only human being capable of doing that."

"Hey!"

"Well, it's true!"

"No it's not! I haven't forgotten where the staircase was to my house since I was fourteen! And I'm quite proud of that accomplishment!"

"You _would _be. . ." Misty smirked, her irritability somehow slipping away, but she yawned.

"I was grooming myself. There was no way I, like, would show myself to our guests with the inevitable pillow head." Daisy explained, tossing her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, "No cowlicks or unmanageable curls for me, thanks."

"Uh huh. . . Anyway, guys, maybe we should get going. Misty can have the front seat and take a nap on the way back." May said, removing the key ring from her pocket again and swinging it around her finger, "And I, of course, will be driving."

Ash shuddered. He avoided looking at May, who seemed to be silently questioning if he had a problem with her skills on the road, and turned instead, to face Misty and Daisy again.

"Okay, so. . . do you two maybe need a few minutes alone? You know, to say goodbye? I mean, I know it's only a couple of weeks, but you are. . . family. . ." He hadn't even finished the statement before the two grown woman basically threw themselves into each other's arms, wishing the other luck and giving advice.

"I'll, like, miss you, little sister!" Daisy wailed.

"I know; I'll miss you, too!" Misty responded, equally teary-eyed, but then, slowly calming down, ". . . But maybe this will be a good experience for both of us. . . I need the rest, and you need the practice, the training. . . And Lilly and Violet need to grow up a bit more." She added, and she and Daisy shared a small grin as they broke apart and wiped at their own eyes.

"Yea, well, if this doesn't work, then at least feel comforted with the fact that you, like, totally enjoyed yourself. . . And you had better have enjoyed yourself. Now get out of here, alright? You stay any later and you'll, like, be on the road throughout the entire night!" Daisy ended the discussion by means of a farewell and Misty was ushered out the door with May and Ash, "And Misty? You and your little boyfriend better not get ahead of yourselves!"

Both Ash and Misty flinched at that comment.

"Ignore her, ignore her. . ." Misty murmured, breathing deeply as she found her way over to the front seat of the car. Ash sighed and sidled in behind her while May found herself behind the wheel.

"Hey, Myst? I hope you grow attached to your seatbelt. . ." Ash said with a small grin as he shut the door.

"Er, why?"

"Because, I've learned that May's driving techniques aren't exactly legal in every country."

**O**o**O**

(**The next week or so is far too gruesome for thine eyes to read**. **The following narration taking place over the course of Ash**, **Misty**, **May**, **and Brock**'**s bi-weekly meeting will have to suffice as enough of an explanation for you all**.)

While Ash and Misty chose to glare almost ruefully at one another, May and Brock couldn't help the almost sly grins that grew on their faces. The group of four were sitting once again at the cafe in Viridian, their preferred spot for their reunions, and were immersed in a very interesting discussion of how Ash and Misty's first week of living together had gone. Well, it was less 'interesting' and more 'horrifying', as they quickly discovered, after both of the Pallet citizens had retreated to their seats and started ranting, not minding the ferocious insults that flew from their mouths.

"First of all, really, think of all of those bags she had! And she couldn't wait to use my bathroom! She left hair in the shower drain!" Ash started off straight away, giving way to the shudder that went through him a moment later.

"You're lucky that I moved in with you when I did, Ash Ketchum! When your mother left, she didn't know what she was leaving behind! You're nothing but a disrespectful slob! You have Doritos crumbs knee-deep in your couch cushions! And did I ever tell you that you need to make an effort to try and grocery shop more often? Your milk is three weeks old!" Misty scoffed in a disgusted sort of way.

"So what? Or have you forgotten that it's my house? I daresay that you don't have a right to complain."

"No, except for the fact that you invited me to stay over there for the time being, and you should be making this at least a bit more comfortable for me, shouldn't you?"

Drumming his fingers on the table annoyingly as though bored with her argument, Ash continued with his own, ". . . You think what you've got to say is bad. . . ? Guys. . ." He turned to face Brock and May now, and the two of them stared at him. He was giving them a look of the utmost misery, ". . . she - she tried t - to _cook _for me. . ."

There was a chorus of appalled gasps at this statement, and Misty turned red. She knew that her culinary skills weren't _that _great, but. . . Ash was going a bit too far, rubbing it in like that. . . And the fact that Brock and May had never even tasted anything she'd attempted to make (but they'd heard the stories) and were still backing away from her was a sign that Ash was winning this battle. . .

Well. . . Misty smirked. She knew a way to change that. But the effort would definitely cost her some dignity.

"You think that that's bad? I've got news for you!" She slapped one of her hands onto the table now to regain everyone's attention (they were still looking a little revolted there) and then continued speaking, ". . . The day after I moved into the guest bedroom (Ash's old bedroom), Ash had gotten up early to start on some project. . . Don't ask me what. . . I ended up sleeping in because I was still so tired. . . Anyway. . . Just as I was beginning to come around, I heard my bedroom door open a bit, and someone yawning, and then I felt something being tossed all over me, and then I heard the door being closed again. . ." Misty paused here for dramatic affect, but she was able to tell that she'd gotten at least May's full interest, ". . . And then, when I'd finally been able to wake myself up enough. . . well. . ." She turned red here, and it was more out of disgust and embarrassment than anything else, ". . . Ash ended up throwing his dirty underwear on me! The dense idiot!" And here, she turned and gave him a haughty look.

"Oh, ew!" May said, and she attempted to repress a large quake as well, but with much difficulty, "How could you do something as. . . as. . . awful as that, Ash?" She asked him, and Misty busied herself quite suddenly with her diet latte, pleased that she'd finally gotten away from the limelight.

"I'm sorry! I forgot that she was staying there! My mom had been moved out for so long and that room had become one used for storage more than anything else, alright?" He excused himself, but May was still giving him a dirty look, and although Brock looked a bit like he wanted to burst out into peals of laughter, he was managing to contain himself with a fatherly expression of disapproval as well.

"Really, I think you both are at fault here. I mean, Ash, you should have put a bit more effort into being sure that Misty would be comfortable in this new environment. . . And, Misty? Have you ever heard of the word 'compromise'?" Brock attempted to say, but neither of them really seemed to want to be any part of it. It was hard to try and move things along when both Ash and Misty thought themselves perfectly right. . .

"Well, I think that maybe you two just moved in together a little too soon into your relationship. . ." May sighed, and this comment was met with a unanimous response.

"_What?_" Ash, Misty, _and _Brock spat out, quite literally, overtop their hot drinks. May found herself drenched in a strange combination of hot chocolate and coffee.

"Well, I mean, maybe your sister was right. Maybe you two are getting ahead of yourselves." May shrugged, "I know you guys have had this age-old 'thing' going on between you, but come on, really, is this the best way to resolve it? Moving in together on a whim? You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd almost think Misty planned that fainting thing so that this whole thing would happen the way it did. . ."

"Whoa, whoa. . . So you're pinning this on _me_?" Misty practically shrieked, pointing at herself. Ash couldn't help laughing, he was so beside himself. Whether or not he agreed with where this topic was going, it was definitely a good thing to see the redhead back in the hot seat.

"I'm just thinking about it a certain way. . . You show up at your first reunion in months after you break up with your boyfriend, which, coincidentally, is at the same time that Ash breaks up with his girlfriend. . . And then, just as he's walking you to the bus-stop, he kindly offers you a place to stay, should you ever need it. . . Then, just a few days later, you end up fainting? Talk about right on time. . ." May said, and now, not only was Ash fighting to suppress his laughter, but so was Brock.

"Stop it, May; I'm serious. . ." Misty said, flexing her fists under the table.

"No, keep going, May, this is getting interesting. I want to know more about Misty's undying love and affection for me. I want to know how she's been pining for me since we were twelve years old and how she planned this whole thing out just so that she could act on those emotions just when I least expect it. . ." And then, unable to contain himself any longer, Ash burst out into a fit of raucous hilarity, and Brock joined him.

Of course, that didn't last very long, seeing as Misty pulled out one of her seven-foot-tall mallets and pulverized both of them without a second thought. She was quite proud of herself for being about to do so without any trace of scarlet appearing on her cheeks at the mention of the crush she'd indeed had on him as a kid. Now that she thought about it, the thought of ever being able to love a loser like him was almost degrading, what with the way he reacted to it.

"Well, anyway, since you guys don't seem ready and willing to try and resolve this thing on your own, and otherwise, Misty might as well just go home and end up hospitalized for attempted suicide, we're going to have to go about solving this another way." Brock massaged his chin in thought after both he and Ash had recovered, "How about. . . I don't know. . . throwing some sort of. . . home-warming party? Given, Ash already knows all of the people who live in Pallet Town, but it will give Misty a way to meet some new people, and if it just so happens that you two end up getting so sick of each other that you, Misty, pack up your things and move yourself out, maybe you'll have met up with someone else by then who you can count on to take you in for the last few days of your vacation." He suggested.

"Er, Brock, I dunno when you last came to my house, but, well, it's not exactly the type of place that you can just. . . throw a party. . ." Ash started awkwardly with a hand behind his neck.

"Yea, you'd need a bulldozer to mow through all of the trash first, wouldn't you, Ash?" Misty asked, scrunching up her nose.

"You two forget who you're talking to." Brock said with that strange twinkle in his eye that told them he was not far from pulling on his pink frilly apron and a French accent.

"I think it's a good idea," May said, "It'll give us a chance to go shopping for new dresses." She continued pointedly to Misty, but Ash groaned at this before she could reply.

"Great, _more _clothes. . ."

"Oh, shut it. Well, I don't know about it either. Other than the fact that it's not my house, I just. . . I don't know why, but I just feel weird about this idea so suddenly, and it's not like I'd have long to get to know these people, right? I mean, I'll only be around for, like, another week."

"Yea." Ash said, "So, see, Brock? What's the point? It's really not worth it. . . I mean, I don't want to put you out, what with all of the cleaning involved beforehand, and Misty will be going home soon, and I'm sure that the two of us can make it through that long. . ." He said, although he wasn't looking so positive about it, "So let's just forget about it and move on. . ." But Brock still had that look on his face, "How come you seem more interested in this than any of the rest of us. . . ? I said _NO_, Brock, N - O --"

"-- I'll cater it. . ." He said tantalizingly in a singsong tone.

"Done and done." Ash finished with an expression of determined resolution on his face.

**O**o**O**o**O**

((Anonymous things that probably should have gotten tagged with a number but didn't)) --

**Misty and May's Combination Baby-Blue-Eyed, "We're in need of a big, strong man!" stare** - Parental discretion is advised. This little number is considered quite deadly in some situations. Do not attempt to reenact without proper supervision.

**May's driving** - Er, I couldn't help it. . . I could see her being one of those manic road-runner types. . . :)

**Brock's unusual interest in throwing a party in Ash's house** - So sue me; Brock is Brock, and I think that he'd be into this, if not for the fact that he misses picking up after people, and all of his younger siblings have moved out and blah, blah, blah. . . This will give him the chance to reminisce about the good, ol' days. . . Heh. As long as Ash and Misty don't end up killing each other first.

**Ash and Misty's living situation** - Yea, I could see these issues happening, especially the underwear thing, strangely enough. I think it would be one of Ash's more rebellious stages. After all of those years of Mrs. Ketchum's nagging that he wash them and change them everyday, and now that he's finally been able to live on his own. . . He's just gotten used to his way of living. Yep. Until Misty came along. Heh. And then it all went away.

**Notes **- First of all, yes, I did decide to make the characters exceptionally older in this fic. I've heard that this upsets one reader in particular, as she feels that it takes away from the original innocence of the series, and that it also inflicts injury on what could have been some good humor, meaning Ash's stupidity as a teenager. Well, just because he's grown up doesn't mean that he's a genius! I mean, obviously he'll have grown into some things, but other things he'll be deftly confused about, so, hopefully, you'll still have some stuff to look forward to. Don't worry. I mean, like you read in the first chapter, he didn't get it when his girlfriend broke up with him and proceeded to call her the next day, and he got a pretty big chewing out for that one. . . And wait until he knocks up Misty (way later on in this fic) and has to explain to his mother that he is indeed sexually active. . . -**coughs**- Moving on.

I'm glad that urging Brock's medical issues onto a professional was a good idea. Unfortunately, it won't become a major plot, or sub-plot, but as long as the thought of it is still funny, then. . .

Oh, yes. . . What the heck? Who out there says I'm not a Contestshipper? I mean, I've only had it written down in the 'Shippings' segment of my FFN biography since at least June of last year, if not earlier that I support May/Drew! -**hyperventilates**- And what about the hint(s) in "Illicit Saints" (which is something else I must talk about next -**cringes**-)? For those of you who seem to be such loyal fans, you sure don't read into it much. . . :P

Also. . . -**sniffles**- are you guys picking on me? Really, because at least one of you (if not two or three) has said that this idea is good, but it'll probably never match up to "Illicit Saints"! Wah! You make me want to go and delete that stupid fic! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Ugh! Now, I'm going to start feeling like everything I write is going to be inspected and graded by all of you and then marked in comparance to IS. . . -**wants to log into FFN account and delete IS **_really _**badly right now**-

Oh, wait, there was one more thing I think I had to comment on. . . Someone mentioned that it was a curious thing that Ash and Misty didn't act anything other than indifferent to the other's romantic relationships with opposing people. Yes, my friends, I'm going to come out with it. This isn't going to be one of those futuristic fics where Ash and Misty have spent the past ten or so years pining secretly for each other's affection while attempting to, at the same time, get over each other by dating other people. In this fic, much like with "Miss Discovery!", neither starts off with feeling anything besides friendship for the other. Heh. But that's gonna make their growth and their relationships and possible denial and the jokes and stuff way more fun, don't you think? -**smirks**- That's not to say that there won't be reference to the obviousness of the crushes they had on each other as kids, but as of now, they really have sort of grown out of it, especially after not seeing each other for so long. . .

Anyway, should I put up a spoiler. . . ? -**wonders**- Well, first I guess I should come out with it. . . I did plan on actually putting the home-warming party in this chapter, but then, when I got finished with the second part of the chapter, I realized just how long it was and I decided to wait. Don't worry; hopefully you'll get it next time around. Heh.

So, yea, _spoilers _-**squeals**-. . . Well, of course, the home-warming party takes place first off and everything is a hit. Ash is pigging out, and Misty's meeting a ton of new and interesting people. Brock's turned the Ketchum home inside out to make it look its best for everyone, and the event ends pretty well, considering, and even for our new roommates, it finishes on good terms. . . Then, a few days later, Ash is cruising Pallet when he runs into Gary Oak, who's in town for Delia and Samuel's third wedding anniversary. A spark of their former and yet unresolved rivalry comes into play when the Oak grandson mentions his hot date, and reminds Ash of the fact that he's failed to maintain a relationship for awhile now. Of course, Ash being Ash, the raven-haired ex-trainer swears that he'll have his previous rival beat. . . And then, just as soon as the discussion is over, he remembers that the anniversary party is less than _forty-eight _hours away. . . Can he really manage to find a date within that amount of time? -**rolls eyes**- Yea, this should go well. . .

Er, that's all. Can't a girl get some reviews?


	3. But As Long As the Act Draws Us Nearer

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . . I own Dr. Sampson! Only, kind of not really, because, like I noted at the bottom, I stole the last name from one of my bestest gal-pals, Ashley!

**Notes **- I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. Anyway, I think I'm going to add this chapter as a, er. . . test-drive? You know, because the idea might be a little too different, or a little too popular. . . I don't know, I'm hardly able to get online and search for myself anymore.

So please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Three **- "As Long As the Act Draw Us Nearer"

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **February **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially created **May 3rd - 25th **of **2006**.

**O**o**O**o**O**

When Ash and Brock arrived together at his house in Pallet, walked in the front door, and caught sight of Misty staring at them from beyond the living room archway with a glare on her face, they knew that they should find a valid way of defending themselves. They never had the chance, however, seeing as she ended up throwing the remote to the television set at her roommate of the last week. . . and hitting him upside the head.

"Jerk!" She shouted furiously from behind a foot-high pile of trash. "You said you were going to be back by two o'clock! I've had these invitations ready for almost three hours now!" She picked up another anonymous item to throw at him, under the impression that he deserved the punishment, and Ash took the chance to push Brock in front of him and hold him there. Misty halted where she stood, knowing that the breeder didn't deserve to face her wrath; at least, not yet he didn't.

"If you'd had them finished for such a long time, then why didn't you go and send them out?" Ash asked, stepping around Brock and crossing his arms angrily.

"Because, smart guy," Misty rolled her eyes, "we planned on having the party tomorrow, didn't we? We can't mail the invites to the guests because there's no guarantee they'll arrive there tomorrow, or that anyone will be able to make some time in their schedules to get here on such short notice. . . ! That means we'll have to go out and deliver them in person. . . !"

"And why did you have to wait almost three hours just to complain to me about that? If nothing else, we still wrote out the addresses on the envelopes! You could've gone and delivered the invitations yourself, then, couldn't you?" Ash reprimanded, turning his nose up in a scoff.

"Well, let's see; maybe because I haven't been to Pallet Town in over four years and I don't plan on spending an entire evening running around an entire reformed Kanto metropolis to try and find these friends of yours. . . ! Maybe that's something you wouldn't mind doing, but not me!"

"Yea, well I. . ." The raven-headed male started awkwardly, attempting to come up with an excuse to continue this argument and prove her wrong, but he couldn't think of anything. Dammit; he hated it when she was right and, if memory served, it happened way too often. . . Luckily, Brock chose to intervene at that time, saving Ash from any further embarrassment.

"While it feels just. . . great to be back – really, guys – I'm serious; you should learn to chill out before you kill each other." The breeder coughed and turned away from the two supposed adults, muttering, "You know, before the equivalent of my migraines and the expenses of aspirin drive me into bankruptcy."

"Hn; fine." Misty gave in, collapsing back onto the couch, only to leap back up again. "Ow. . . !" She shouted, and turned to remove something from the cushions, "What the heck. . . is this. . . ? How did a spork get in-between the – silly me. . . Why do I even bother asking, right?" She glared at Ash and rolled her eyes, "Ugh, this place needs one hell of a thorough cleaning. . . The air smells like stale cheese; it's barely breathable. . . !" She turned and threw the kitchen implement onto the coffee table in front of her.

"Hey, Ash; how about you two get a start on delivering those invitations, okay? And as for the 'thorough cleaning' of this house. . ." Brock gave a cheesy and confident grin, and then twirled once on the spot; the next thing Ash and Misty new, he'd ripped away his entire outfit in one grasp.

"Agh, Brock, what are you doing?" Misty yelled out, throwing out both of her hands in front of her face.

"Oh, god, all of my worldly, childlike innocence – gone! Just like that!" Ash shouted, following suit. They both cringed and looked away. . . until they heard Brock start laughing two seconds later. When next they looked up, it was to see their oldest friend standing before them in a new costume, and a very familiar pink, frilly apron. In his hand, he held a fluffy feather duster. "And now, it's still gone!"

"Mine, too. . . !"

"Well, at least you two agree on something. . ." Brock stated dumbly at their reactions. Even as he spoke, they were twitching in horror. "Oh, c'mon. . . ! It's not like this is the first time I've ever worn anything like this!"

"Yea, but. . . i – it's been awhile. . ." Misty replied weakly, pointing at him. He seemed to be putting on a show of puckering his lips and twirling daintily on the spot. "I – it's over; it's all over!" She shrieked, but was somehow thoroughly relieved by Ash walking up to her and pushing her towards the back door, away from the breeder, grabbing a hold of the invitations on the way. "What are you doing, Ash?"

"What do you think? I'm getting us both out of here before we're traumatized for life. . . You should be thanking me, shouldn't you? Now let's go; we've got something to do, haven't we?" He held up the pile of envelopes for her to see and she sighed and nodded, then the two of them finished wading through the two-foot-high pile of trash on the floor leading into the kitchen. "See ya, Brocko; be sure to have a ball!"

And the breeder's tighty-whities were on the move.

The walk around Pallet Town, although excruciatingly long and annoying, was almost made worthwhile, if not for the fact that it gave Ash and Misty a chance to spend some actual time together without being able to feud over anything, then simply for the fact that it gave Misty a chance to learn how to re-navigate around Ash's hometown, even if only slightly.

Unfortunately, not everyone who'd been invited could spare the time in their busy schedules to make it to the homewarming party, so Ash, moving swiftly, invited himself and Misty into his neighbors' houses whenever a rejection was coming, and attempted to introduce the redhead right on the spot. If not for the fact that it made it look like he was all too ready to dump her off on someone else, she would have been quite proud of his cunning.

Finally, two-and-a-half hours later, the large stack of invitations had dwindled to only three. Ash folded them up, stuck them in his pocket to hide them from Misty, and allowed a pleased grin to cross his features.

"And now I'm hungry!" He stated quite proudly, just in time for his stomach to emit a loud growl, "Let's go get something to eat!" He punched a fist into the air excitedly and began to march off towards a local strip mall that they'd passed twice already that day. Before he could walk more than a few steps, however, Misty leapt out and grabbed his wrist.

"Ash, wait!" She started responsibly, "We still have things we need to be doing; we have to finish handing out those last few invitations, if you haven't forgotten! I don't want anymore of _your_ friends giving us the evil-eye for planning all of this on such short notice! And after we deliver those invitations, then we can go back home and maybe Brock can whip something up for us before it gets too late. He's staying over, right? So that he can spend all day working in the kitchen tomorrow. . . ?" She asked.

"Yea, yea. . ." He shook her grip off of him and waved a hand at her distractedly. "And about the last few invites? Don't worry about it; the only ones left are my mom, Professor Oak, Tracey, Gary – and only because he just so happens to be in town for my mom's anniversary party later on this week – and. . . another long-time friend of mine. And there's no way that _she'd_ ever let me down by not being able to show up." He finished confidently.

Misty sighed, "Fine, then, Mr. Excuses. We still don't need to go out to eat when we have Brock the combo French maid and wonder chef waiting for us back at home. He can smell take-out from a mile away; he'd be insulted. So why don't we just go home and let him make something for us before we all turn in?"

"Because, Misty, remember the stale cheese smell wafting throughout my humble abode before we left?" Ash asked of her. Misty remained mute, but the scrunch of her nose made it all too clear that she remembered perfectly. "And remember the possible expunging that Brock is always capable of when he's cleaning house? It's only been. . ." Ash checked his wristwatch, ". . . two hours and forty minutes. Going back now would mean exposing ourselves to countless different possibly even lethal odors and fungi."

It took the Cerulean native not even three seconds to decide.

"Italian take-out it is, then," she agreed, and sped off in the direction he'd been heading in beforehand.

"However, ten minutes, forty-nine seconds later, it seemed that everything was positively destined to go downhill. Both Ash and Misty seemed to have a problem with each other while sitting at the same table, but when requested to separate, turned down the offer in a heartbeat. It was the same issue they'd been having while at Ash's house for the past week.

"I'm not the one doing anything wrong. . . !" Misty stated fiercely with a glare in Ash's direction, "If _he's_ such a problem, make him move to another part of the restaurant!"

"I'm telling you, I didn't do anything! If you've got such a problem with me, Misty – and I wouldn't doubt that it stems from a long bout of psychotic breaks taking place over the past few years – then not only do you need to be seated at a more reserved, possibly quarantined area of the building, but maybe you should go see someone professional about that!" Ash shouted, losing his temper, throwing his menu onto the table, and getting to his feet.

"Excuse me, Ash Ketchum, Mr. Walking Disaster?" Misty asked, just as loudly, and she matched him move for move, leaning forward across the table to bore holes through his flesh with her eyes of fire. "Why should I be the one quarantined when you're the one who's threatening to eat the world into a famine? Why should I go see a psychologist when you seem to be the one who used to be so peachy-keen about putting your life at risk a million times a day? Hypocrite. . . !" She finished with a scoff.

"I don't think it's very fair to be making an 'accurate' argument against me with justification of what I _used_ to do. . . ! Why not try to keep the events more current, Misty, unless this is all more of that psycho-affair stuff you've got going up in your head?" And he made a gesture of pointing to his own.

"Pardon me, Mr.—?" A large man walked up to them from out of nowhere and Misty gracefully shut her own mouth at this new introduction into the conversation. There was applause from around the room after she did so, and she turned slightly red in the face at the acknowledgement that all of those strangers had been listening in.

"Er, my name's. . . Ash Ketchum." Ash said bashfully in response to the man's first inquiry. Evidently, he'd caught on to the fact, as well.

"Ah, Mr. Ketchum, well, my name is of no importance. . . All you need to know is this." And the man pointed to a small golden insignia that he was wearing on his dress shirt, and that read 'Manager', "You see, I've gotten. . . complaints. . . about an argument between two of my costumers, and that argument has carried to almost every part of the establishment."

"Huh. . . I think I heard something about that, too, actually. . . I think it was coming from over there." Ash indicated towards the 'smoking' section.

"And something else, Mr. Ketchum. A few of the complaints stated that the disturbance started over a trifle about. . . the menu. The customers said that you were attempting to order a record of twelve items from the appetizers list alone, and that Mrs. Ketchum here wouldn't allow that. The lover's spat was further ignited when she said that she wasn't sure what she wanted to eat almost twenty minutes after being seated at your table. Now, doesn't that seem just a bit. . . juvenile. . . to you two?"

"A little. . ." Misty admitted, ". . . but, I mean, look at what I have to deal with. . . ! And – wait. . . w – what was that you called me?" She had been in the process of turning her nose up at Ash when something had finally clicked into place inside her head. She blinked rapidly, twice, three times, sure she had misheard. . . but then she turned to glance at her raven-haired housemate and saw that he'd suddenly begun choking on the air that he was trying to breathe.

"D – did you just say 'Mrs. Ketchum'? A – and. . . 'lover's spat'?" He coughed in heaving breath's, "Oh, no. . . No, no, no, no, no. . . Not then, not now, not anytime that I can see in the future; even if the world got taken over by rabid Clefairy and the rest of the female human species was slaughtered. Uh, uh. . . Never gonna happen."

"Exactly!" Misty said, then she turned and muttered ruefully to Ash, "Although, it's nice to know that you've thought out just how many types of situations a relationship with me would be found despicable in; loser."

"Well, I apologize for my mistake. However, the fact still remains that if you wish to enjoy the fundamentals of this establishment, you'll have to learn not to wish death upon one another so publicly. I'm afraid that it makes the other customers a little. . . _tense_." The manager cleared his throat, watched Ash and Misty silently regain their seats, and left it at that.

"Huh. . ." Misty said, half-glaring at the few people that were continuing to stare even as she and Ash tucked back into their menus, "So. . . beginning to feel guilty yet?" She asked offhandedly, glancing overtop the laminated list of food items.

"Guilty? About what? Calling you a psychopath and saying that it would do the world a load of good if you were isolated from the rest of us normal people?" And now she was outright glaring at _him_. . .

"No, Ash; I'm talking about how Brock has been left in that filthy, contaminated house of yours for the past two or three hours while all that mold and dust floats around him. . . I wouldn't be surprised if he died because of you!" She slammed her menu back down on the table and pointed accusingly at him, and he stuck his tongue out immaturely and opened his mouth to retaliate. . . just in time for the waiter to appear in front of them.

"Er. . . I – I've been told that it's up to me to try and take your order. . ." The anonymous young man stated meekly, holding up his small notebook for protection, but also seemingly coming to the conclusion on his own that it would do no good, and dropping it again, "But, y – you know, if you a – aren't ready yet, I could come back later. . ." He took an awkward step back as Ash and Misty blinked at his peculiar attitude towards them. Obviously their reputations preceded them.

Ash practically leapt out of his seat in his haste to make himself heard.

"Okay, I want two orders of the pasta, five orders of the bread, and – oh, are these toasted BLT sandwiches? I'll have to try at least one of those – hmm. . ." The raven-haired ex-trainer took a moment to think about it. ". . . Better make it three. . ."

"A – anything to drink. . . ?" The waiter asked, attempting to scribble everything down.

"Eh, just a cola, thanks. . ." Ash said, deciding to save the harder drinking for sometime later that week. God knew, what with Misty around, he was going to need it.

"And for you?" The waiter asked, turning to face Misty, who was gaping, transfixed, at Ash, having almost forgotten just what he was capable of.

"I – I think I'll stick with. . . your single garden salad, with a serving of Italian dressing. Oh, and a diet cola." She closed her eyes and slammed the menu shut as though knowing that if she didn't, she might end up ordering much more than she could afford to, before thrusting it back into the waiter's arms and waving him on his way.

"Uh, you know, you don't have to be so. . . restrictive. I mean, really, we all know that when it comes down to good food, you can put away just as much as me, and this place is supposed to have a really good status. . ." Ash quirked an eyebrow at her quite suddenly and pointed, "Or are you just watching your figure?"

"No, genius!" Misty reprimanded, "In case you've forgotten, I'm stuck here in Pallet with _you_ for the next week because I collapsed back home. And I collapsed back home from the stress of maintaining two jobs, three Barbie-doll sisters, ten-plus Pokemon, and a gym that's currently turning decrepit without me there for at least a little financial support!" Her voice had been slowly but steadily rising throughout the statement, and now she caught her breath and glared openly at him. "Get it now? I don't want to be here, especially with _you_; but, for now, everyone feels that I have to be! And as for this. . . ?" She flung out an arm wildly at the surrounding environment, ". . . I can barely afford what I ordered, let alone anything else. . . !"

". . . Oh, is that all?" Ash asked sheepishly, just in time for their drinks to arrive, ". . . D – did I forget to mention that I was paying?" He continued next, after taking a sip of his own.

"Y – you're. . . doing what?" Misty's annoyance faltered and she almost slipped to the floor.

"Well, yea, I mean, you _are_ stuck here, and I did basically force you to come inside with me. . . I guess it's only fair that I should have to pick up the tab." He didn't say anything more to her, but instead, took another drink of his cola. He didn't mention much of the fact, either, that she'd just got finished bashing him verbally for everything that he was worth.

"Huh. . ." Suddenly, she almost felt that she wanted to apologize, but something held her back – that something most likely being her pride. After all, how hard that word could be to utter when you felt that you were always one-hundred percent right about everything. . . ! And even if Misty hadn't necessarily been proven wrong, it still felt weird having to say it, and especially to Ash. So she simply avoided looking at him for the next quarter of an hour until he finally realized that she was purposely ignoring him.

Not able to accept such blunt ignorance, he tried to think of something that he could do or say to get her attention; then, almost instantly, something came to mind and he laughed.

"What's so funny?" Misty asked, confused and slightly irritated.

"Oh, it's nothing, really. I was just thinking about what you said before. . . you know. . . about Brock keeling over from the toxic fumes of my house or whatever, and it's just. . . that would be such a sad way to go. . ."

"What? Dying over the scent of stale cheese and the fungi of six-month-old chicken bones? Don't I know it. . ." Misty mumbled in reply.

"Well, there _is_ that, but what about the fact that he'd be passing while in that pink apron of his. . . ? I mean, imagine being discovered by the authorities and the medical examiner in that thing. . ." Ash shuddered at the very thought.

"Idiot. . ." Misty ground out; however, despite the obvious stupidity of her friends' comment, she couldn't help but find humor in it. Thank god she was saved the risk of having to tell him that by the arrival of their food. Now it was her turn to chuckle openly at the thought. . . "You know, Ash; now that you mention it, this salad really is rather small. . . Waiter. . . !" She called the young man back just as he'd hoped to make his escape, "I'd like to see your dessert menu, please."

". . . Uh, Misty, you – you're not going to lead me face-first into bankruptcy, are you?" Ash asked her, half-horrified as he started at the wicked smirk on his face and the very large menu in her hands.

"Oh, of course not; don't be silly. . . But just in case," she paused here, cleared her throat, and the strange grin widened, "you did remember to bring all of your major debit and credit cards, right?"

**O**o**O**

The stereo had been set to play continuous alternative rock jams ("It's my house so I should get to pick the music!" Ash defended), a small table had been set up in the living room to serve refreshments to the guests ("They'll just love my vegetable canolli!" Brock squealed), and everyone had changed into their respective, er, costumes to await the arrival of their invitee's ("But you're not going to wear that, are you?" Misty admonished).

The beverages were all alcohol-free, and the platters seemed to be nothing but vegetables and dressing for appetizers. Of course, Ash seemed to have a problem with this, seeing as he'd always preferred cheeseburgers to garden salads.

"I mean, where's the sausage links, the ham pockets, the meatballs?" He whined, picking at the celery sticks with his nose scrunched up in dislike, "This stuff isn't for proper human beings; this is pet food!" He finished, just in time for Pikachu to come traipsing downstairs.

"Pika, Pikapi!" He growled, seemingly insulted, and used a _Thundershock_ attack on his trainer to exact his revenge. The message was clear; '_Don't comment on anything to do with pet-food!_'

"Ow!" Ash moaned, "Watch it, buddy! I don't wanna have to change my clothes because you burnt these to dust!" His complaints meshed with Misty's.

"I – don't – like – skirts." She seethed, plucking at said garment. "Never have, never will. This is just. . . too tight! Does it have to gather up around my thighs?" She exhaled a large breath of air and pulled at the material bunched just above her knees so that it fell a little more loosely and evenly around her lower calves, "There; that's at least a little better. . ."

"What's wrong, Myst? Worried some guy is going to make a pass at you? One of my friends? You don't have to bother yourself with those types of thoughts; they know better than to get involved with someone who has as many anger-management problems as you do."

Misty growled as she replied, "Loser."

"Scrawny."

"Bastard."

"Psycho."

The redhead was just opening her mouth to insult him again when Brock came marching out of the kitchen.

"Okay, children, no more of that; the guests will be arriving any moment now and the last thing they need to see is the knotted galactic combination of your unresolved sexual tension." He said, placing the final appetizer tray on the refreshments table and turning to face them with a sigh of relief, "There; all done. . . What? Why are you looking all hostile like that?"

Both Ash and Misty seemed to have different expressions of "excitement" on their faces. Whereas Misty looked thoroughly pissed at the comment her older friend had just made, Ash's eyes had focused on the last platter Brock had set down a few seconds before. . . And then, without so much as a warning, he made a grab for it.

"No! Bad Ash! _Bad_!" Brock and Misty claimed in unison, and they both slapped at his hand so that he pulled it away.

"Ow. . . !" He stared at them both with big, sad-faced googly eyes, "How could you. . . ?"

"You know those are for the guests!" Brock admonished, pointing at the table, "Therefore, you should also know that you're not allowed to just start eating them whenever you want!"

"B – but. . ." Ash looked at the platter set out before him with an overly fond expression on his face, "those are pigs-in-a-blanket! The only thing here worth eating! I want meat! I am man and I will not accept anything less!" He stated in a firm tone, placing an enclosed fist over his chest as though giving an over-inspirational speech.

"Pika. . ." Pikachu sweatdropped, and Brock and Misty followed suit. Ash was just about ready to dive for the platter again while everyone was distracted by his stupidity, when the doorbell rang for the first time that evening.

"Okay. . ." He sighed, giving in to his horrible, no good, very bad fate, "I guess I'll get that. But no one touches the pigs-in-a-blanket before me!" He turned towards the front door, but then faced Pikachu again to give him a bit of advice, "Buddy, you better find higher ground; once everyone gets here, the floor will be the least safest place for you, to put it lightly." And Pikachu heeded the warning, hurriedly leaping onto the couch at that very moment to avoid any awkward footfalls that might meet his backside in the near future.

The first to arrive were Mrs. Ketchum, Professor Oak, Gary, and Tracey; and then it was May and Drew, who'd traveled out especially from Viridian City; then there was Jessie, James, and Meowth, who had finally moved on from their lives as flunky criminals after realizing that it was a total flop for them and had taken residence in Pallet Town a few years before to open their local diner, "Da Top Cat"; after that, the strangers finally started arriving – those who had been able to accept the invitations, anyway. From neighbors to employers to franchisers that Ash was all too happy to buy from.

Then there was the female "friend" that Ash had mentioned would never let him down the day before. Simone Hawkins, a waitress at "Da Top Cat", part-time, and also a full-time college student. She had met Ash while on shift once and had hired him a few times for some offhand yard work since she lived with a handicapped aunt. That meeting had been a year and a half ago and, already, they were very good friends; they knew they could depend on each other. Some people actually thought that there might have been a back-story to them – there were rumors of numerous flings – but the two always denied it. It was very reminiscent of Ash and _Misty's_ childhood, really. . .

A few people brought gifts, anonymous household items that would probably never be put to any use, but Ash – and even Misty (who probably wasn't even going to be there long enough to see everything get jammed into the linen closet) – thanked everyone for their thoughtfulness and proceeded to offer them some of Brock's refreshments. The music was blasting, Pikachu was out of harms' way, Brock had removed his pink apron for the evening even though his snacks were such a great hit, he'd probably have to make more (he'd decided to try cooking without the trauma towards the viewers). Everything seemed to be going fine. . .

. . . Except. . .

"Ack! Misty! Don't tell me you handed them all out so soon!" Ash said, referring to the pigs-in-a-blanket platter, which she was holding, and which was now also completely empty. "I only got to have eight of them! How could you?"

"It's a good thing I did! Otherwise you would have just finished off the rest of them before anyone else had a shot to try them on!" She 'hmphed' and turned her nose up at him, tossing the empty tray at Brock, who'd just emerged from the kitchen again, "We need more." She stated simply, and he knew what she meant by it, considering Ash was whimpering so much.

"You – you. . ." He couldn't seem to come up with a name to call her that was fitting enough to justify her heinous crime, "That dress makes you look fat!"

Misty gasped, "How dare you?" She shrieked, pulling out her mallet; but before she was even able to launch one attack, Brock was standing between the two, holding the empty tray up on Misty's side as a shield against her.

"Okay, you guys, stop fighting _now_!" He shouted desperately. "Obviously, even though you should be adults, you don't remember how to act like it, and you must not remember what this party is for, either, do you?" They nodded, ascertaining that they did, but he went on anyway, "We're doing this to help you; we're all here tonight – even though, for most of us, it's very short notice – to help you. But since you don't _want_ to be helped, then we can't very well keep trying to work with such a lost cause. So, now I'm telling you for the good of mankind and all of his sanity, to separate. Ash, take one side of the room; Misty, you take the other. You can do whatever you want when you get there – mingle, sulk, drown your sorrows in a plate of carrot sticks – just, please, don't break anything else tonight, including each other."

The speech was met with applause from all angles and Ash and Misty glared at each other, she sheathed her mallet, and they both turned to head in separate directions of the living room. Ash collapsed next to Pikachu on the sofa and, as Brock had suggested, Misty chose to 'mingle' with some more of the strangers, just in case tonight ended up proving what she'd wondered all along; if she and Ash could really last an entire two weeks under the same roof.

. . . However, ten minutes later, she was still seething about his comment to do with her weight. All she had tried to do was keep him from hogging all the appetizers – there were only twenty per tray – and he'd had to say something so rude and uncalled for? After he'd proven himself to be such a pig?

This called for revenge.

However, Ash had been doing some thinking, too, and – low and behold – had actually come to the same conclusion as her, even from his dusty, lonesome, little corner. She had only been looking out for the guests, and he'd been only too happy to keep devouring those snacks all night long. . . Really, even though it most thoroughly pained him to admit it, she had been more in the right than he, meaning his insulting her had been unjustified, no matter how good it had felt at the time. And it didn't feel very good anymore; along with the indescribably evil chill creeping down his back from some unknown force, he now felt guilty. _Great_. . .

So he decided the best thing to do would be to find her and. . . he shuddered, even at the thought of the author narrating such a word. . . He'd have to 'apologize'. He caught sight of Misty dozens of times over the next half-an-hour, but most of the time she seemed to be hop scotching from guest to guest and showing them something that was so hilarious they couldn't hold back their (possibly spiked, even though it wasn't supposed to be) punch. Any time that she managed to stay still long enough for him to have the chance to walk up to her and say what he had to say, he would get cold feet at the last minute, turn tail, and run. (Well, out of respect for his mom, there was no running in the house unless in case of emergencies, but you get the idea.)

Finally, he knew he had to do the "manly" thing. . . and, as she was managing her way to another one of the many people cluttered around his living room, he bumped headlong into her and almost sent her crashing to the floor. Hey, maybe it wasn't the safest plan, but, at least this way, she couldn't simply ignore him and move on.

"Oh, it's you. . ." She growled and didn't wait for him to say anything – most likely because she didn't expect him to – before turning back towards the crowd.

"Uhm, you. . . you must be real prepared to go, seeing as you've been talking to absolutely everyone since we had our fight. Have you found anybody to stay with yet?" He asked, gulping anxiously as she turned and glared at him, her hands moving steadily to grace her hips. He acknowledged the fact that her leaving his house would not please him at the moment, if only because there was so much conflict between them right now that he wanted to square away.

"Have you been watching me?" She asked in a venomous tone, staring at the expression on his face. "You better not have, Ash, because I gotta tell ya, that borders on stalking." She turned and began to walk away again.

"A – actually, I have been." She froze at the comment and swung around in a more violent fashion, practically hitting him in the face with her palm before it settled back at her side again, "But I have a good excuse!" He gulped once more, cleared his throat, and went on, "You were right; I was acting selfish, like a pig, yadda-yadda; anyway you want to describe it, I was wrong, you made a valid point, a – and that insult I threw at you. . . ? I didn't mean it; I was just angry." He raised his eyes awkwardly to stare into hers, "So, is that okay? I mean, are we okay? At least a little bit?"

Misty finally grinned up at him and held out her hand so that he could shake it, and he finally felt the tension in the air around them start to dissipate.

"You know, there was this one two-word-long phrase you could have said that would have summed all of that up very nicely." Her smile widened, almost to a smirk.

"Maybe so, but Ash Ketchum never apologizes."

"Neither does Misty Waterflower."

They wallowed in that moment of companionship for all of five seconds, before Misty's expression suddenly changed. She looked as though she were battling with herself about something, and then. . .

". . . Uhm, it's good to be friends again, and I don't wanna ruin it. . . So if anyone comes up to you and says some such thing about any totally embarrassing photo's of you, I had absolutely nothing to do with it." She stated in half a breath, and Ash's grin was gone, too, to be replaced with a look of confusion.

"What?" He asked, releasing her.

"Nothing! Nothing at all!" And she turned and rushed off into the crowd before he could begin any form of interrogation on her.

**O**o**O**o**O**

((Anonymous things that probably should have been tagged with a number, but weren't because I'm too lazy to bother anymore))—

**Everyone and anyone ambushing Ash and Misty about their 'relationship'** – This is how it should be, isn't it? Need I say more?

**Simone Hawkins** – An OC that I named on impulse, but that has been forming herself in my head for quite a few months now. She won't be mentioned much more until chapter eleven and later on in the fic (I still have to plan out the exact timing for that), but, either way, she'll be playing a finer of the roles involved in Ash and Misty's blooming lil' relationship. Now I leave it up to you to decide whether or not you think she'll stand in the way of them or help them along. . .

**Ash calling Misty a 'psycho'** – Most of you might consider this OOC, but I thought it was pretty hilarious, and thus why I referred to it so many times throughout the chapter. I mean, the two of them are older; Ash needed some better insults, and Misty's temper is a loaded gun, isn't it? It's definitely something that he could think of as 'psychosis', especially as he knows nothing of the medical disorder to begin with and only wants to piss her off; which, if I may say so, he was doing a fine job of it. . .

**Notes **– Okay, well, I guess I'll just cut it here. . . and I can introduce that whole scene between Ash and Gary in the next chapter. . . which will hopefully be updated a lot sooner than this one was, but you can never be sure. I'm going in for my second interview at this coffee / bagel place tomorrow, and I'm starting college soon, so there we go. I hope you don't hold it against me, though; I'm just trying to keep most of the chapters so far along the same length.

Okay, now, since I can't reply to your reviews one-on-one, I'll do it anonymously. . .

First of all, someone commented on Misty's sex-life. . . Well, I hope it didn't insult you all too much to know that your favorite character(s) isn't (or aren't) a virgin (or virgins) anymore. The fact of the matter is, they're all consenting adults living in the twenty-first century. That's not to say that they'll go jump into bed with whoever they happen to see on the streets; they do have standards. . . But let's not get our hopes up in thinking that Ash is still an "innocent, little boy" either. I mean, they're twenty-three and twenty-four years old for god's sakes. . . They probably have a three-month rule instated, though (like in the sitcom, "Girlfriends"). . .

The next comment I heard was about Delia and Professor Oak. Yea, well, I already explained it once, but I guess I can do it again. . . I'm not sure whether I support it or not, but I have known of "Eldershipping" for years now. For those who can remember the summary to this fic, Ash had to live alone for Misty to be able to move in with him (otherwise there would be no plot), but when I was going over it, I couldn't think of what to do with Mrs. Ketchum. Killing her off seemed too extreme; I mean, I'm already thinking of doing that to her in at least one of my other fics. . . So I decided, why not just have her move on with her life, if not too far away, especially now that her "little boy" is all grown up? I'll have you know that, other than the next chapter, the relationship between Delia and Samuel will not be of any importance to the overall storyline, and the only reason it's important in the next part is because of the anniversary party. Later on, if I ever mention them much, it'll probably have something to do with an onslaught of Pokeshipping, which, hopefully you all have nothing against. . .

The next comment, although probably a popular one, is something I only remember being asked once; and that was when something would happen between Ash and Misty. Now, I wouldn't want to spoil the Pokeshipping appetite, but seeing as it might be awhile for some of you, I guess I can give a bit of it away. . . The main relationship stuff won't start until chapter eight, and, even then, it's more of a fling (you'll see what I mean). By chapter eleven, things will really start stewing. . . But, until then, you'll all have to settle for the little hints and things that I'll be sure to try and fit in for you, as I know it's what you're really here for. Is that good enough for now?

Unfortunately, I think that's all I'm going to give you for now, seeing as I want to add this chapter as soon as possible. I hope that it was good enough to earn a review or two! Can you believe that I've gotten fifteen per chapter for the last two chapters. . . ? That's never happened. . . I mean, by the time five or so chapters of a story of mine are posted, yea, sure, but never from the beginning. . . ! Me thinks that this is the beginning of a record-breaking fiction. . .

**Spoiler** – Ash and Gary confront each other and end up coursing through some unresolved issues not even two days before their relatives' wedding anniversary party. Why? Because Gary's got a date and Ash hasn't since his last relationship ended just before Misty moved in with him. Now he's given a new task. . . Find a hot girl to go with him to the party and show his ex-rival up or face possible humiliation. . . Can he make it when he only has thirty-six hours to spare? And then there's the party in itself; when Ash and Misty arrive (not together, mind you; don't get any ideas), there's a silent pact made between them that states they'll keep each other company, seeing as Misty couldn't care to find a date of her own. . . And then Ash is whisked away by Simone and some of her girl friends. . . Does this bother Misty? Did it bother her that Ash didn't even ask her to go to the party with him, even though he was fine with confiding in her about how he needed to find a suitable girl. . . ? What happens afterwards when Ash and Misty end up stumbling home together, completely sloshed? Will they do something they regret?


	4. It's Worth Every Sour Feeling

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes **- I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Four **- "It's Worth Every Sour Feeling"

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **February **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially created **July 16 th - September 28th **of **2006**.

**O**o**O**o**O**

Ash didn't know how he'd gotten himself into this situation. Firstly, he'd always been a relatively kindhearted person; he'd always helped those who needed it, preserved the righteousness of mankind, and if someone else asked for the final onigiri of the meal that Brock had made, Ash would try as hard as possible not to snatch it up immediately for himself. He would usually fail, of course, but he _did_ try, and that should be all that anyone could ask of him, right?

But now, this was just ridiculous. After all, Gary had been in town only three days, the two young men had barely spoken five words to each other, and just because they happened to catch one another's eye (so very mistakenly, Ash admitted now) while they both had been wandering aimlessly through Pallet Town, the Oak grandson had found it in himself to put on a public spectacle, to nail Ash's feet to the ground long enough to have a chance to brag about whatever he could; his latest research and how well his entire profession was going because of it, the many wonderfully exotic nations he got to travel to in search of new areas of study – which always turned out to lead to adventures beyond anyone's wildest imaginings, and then there was the fact that he had an awesomely hot date for the wedding anniversary party of his grandfather and Ash's mother the next evening.

He'd only been in town for three days and he already had a date.

Go figure.

But before Ash could growl to himself about just how much of a playboy his ex-rival really was, the young man was off again, speaking of the long ebony hair, the voluptuous curves, the scarlet eyes. . . Ash thought the girl Gary would be bringing to the party sounded a bit like a mix between a demon and a goddess. . . but a statement like that made it seem like he was jealous (which he was, but he didn't want Gary to know).

"Melanie is more of a woman than you've ever had; you know, except for maybe _Red_--" Ash winced; that had been his nickname for Misty since he was fifteen, "--but, then again, who are you kidding? You never have had her, have you?" Mockingly, the Oak grandson placed his index finger to his chin, as though in deep thought; "You know, I thought I'd sensed some sort of sexual tension from you two when you were younger. . . I'm usually not wrong about these things - I have that type of instinct. . . but could I have been?"

Ash shuddered. And twitched. And shuddered again. And imagined the amount of pain Misty would put him through if she ever found out the types of rumors that might just be flying around that were about the two of them. . . (Low and behold, he would never _believe _the fact that there actually had been something there, would he?) His poor limbs. . . how they would ache; what was left of them, anyway. . .

"Yea, right, Gary; nothing was ever going on between the two of us, and you know it! Don't think you can psych me out and keep me from finding a girl who's ten times more attractive then yours just because I'm living with my best - female - friend of ten years! There's no tension; we're one-hundred percent comfortable around each other, thank you very much!" He huffed and puffed, ready to blow down any houses nearby.

"Nothing at all, huh? Tomorrow, Ash, evening time - seven o'clock. Bring her, this hot date that you'll be finding by then, because I'll be oh-so ready to meet her." Gary smirked and winked in an 'I know you've got nothing' sort of way, and Ash felt his shoulders slump. His rival turned away before he could do much else, but he managed one last outburst of manly-manliness.

"You just wait, Gary! I'll show you! My date is going to look five hundred times as good as yours, and you're gonna be so stumped and humiliated that you'll walk out of Pallet and never be able to show your face here again!" So what if that was immature. . . ? This thing that they'd had going on since they were nine years old had never completely died out, and since Ash hadn't felt so vibrantly spirited in quite awhile now, it actually felt good to take something out on someone - in a bit of a more. . . extroverted way. It was a good thing that the vehemence that had once existed between the two of them had also kicked the bucket, however; there was no telling just how nasty this situation could have gotten. . . and in _public_. . .

"Whatever, Ashy-boy. I'll believe it when I see it. If I see it, which I doubt." And Gary walked away, leaving the raven-haired ex-trainer to stare at the mysterious dust that 'whooshed' into the air, adding a wondrous effect to the Oak grandson's disappearance.

Slowly but surely Ash came to, his conscious wrapping around the nickname Gary had referred to him as. . . It had been awhile since he'd heard it. . . and it had been awhile since he'd been so insulted. His fists began to twitch, clenching, his teeth began to grit, and his brow furrowed. . .

"Grr, Gary. . . ! I am _man_! I am not a 'boy' anymore! Call me Ashy-'man' next time, won't you?" He shouted into the crowd forming around him, and they began to wonder of his sanity. He was suddenly aware of the many women who were murmuring to one another and he gulped, having never felt so dissatisfied with his own behavior. It hit him then that these were some of the potential dates that he was supposedly going to try and secure for his mother's anniversary party the next evening. However, judging by the half-horrified and half-aggressive expressions on their faces, they obviously would want nothing to do with him.

So, saluting to them and turning away, he placed his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunched, and shuffled back towards his house. He'd completely forgotten why he was out at the time, but it couldn't be nearly as important as his new task - to find himself a girl that was so intensely beautiful that it left Gary with such a pressure bleed it sent him unconscious. Ash couldn't help but grin at the very thought. How amusing it would be to see his rival fall at the hands of such a woman - his woman. . . Heh, heh, heh. . .

"Mommy, why is the man laughing like that. . . ?" A young girl asked of her parent, and a slightly elderly woman turned to stare at the raven-haired supposed-man, who had indeed started to chuckle insanely without his even knowing it. She backed away, taking her daughters' hand and dragging her along, too.

". . . H - honey, ignore him; c'mon now, we still have some errands to run. . ."

Ash turned and saw the two staring at him, but mostly the older woman, and before he even thought the statement through, it had flown out of his mouth and passed through the ears of them all.

"Sorry, but I think you're too old for me," and the woman's jaw dropped before she attempted to off his head, being held back by her juvenile, preteen daughter as she shouted obsceneties that she'd never heard before in her entire life, "Wow, too old _and _too loud. . ." Ash muttered, making his escape while he could.

But managing his way down the main street that would change into the peaceful path that lead to the outskirts of Pallet gave him a chance to wonder about his current problem. Gary had always managed to one-up him in something or another, no matter how frivolous, and, as mentioned before, though the rivalry had been stemmed, it had not been completely stoppered, leaving Ash to beat himself up time and time again when thinking of the times when he would be left to scour for his own recovery. Of course, after he'd met Misty and Brock, and started on his journey, those losses had become slightly easier to bare, thanks so much, but still. . . Now, at the age of twenty-three, to be caught up in yet another one of those impasses, he had to think of some way to push his way through. . .

But how? Everyone of his friends already knew of his, er, inability to hold on to a relationship, thus why he had no one right at the moment, and why he'd had so much extra space available at his home so as to invite Misty to move in with him temperarily. She knew of it, too, and until recently, she hadn't even had much to do with his life since the time around his twenty-first birthday, and even then, it was only through the meetings that Brock had pulled them all into. The point was, if they knew, then it was obvious, almost as if itwas written on his face, and his clothes, and so how could he expect to convince some stranger - some girl he'd never met before - to come with him to this party. And even so, how could he expect his mother to approve? (You know, not that he would care, because he was an adult, and it wasn't like he depended on his mother's opinion of him that much. . . Heh.) But he didn't know anyone else well enough, except for maybe Simone. . .

His eyes brightened; she would have been invited anyway, wouldn't she? Because his mother knew her so well through him, and the two young women got along so well. . . It would be convenient, if nothing else, and he knew her well enough. . . but he sighed two seconds later, coming to the conclusion that it might have just felt a bit strange to be seen 'dating' someone he'd always had such a perfectly in-synch friendship with. It would be like - like, well. . . dating _Misty_, for instance.

Ash halted in his step, blinking, and let out a near-contemptuous laugh. That would be the day. Him and Misty? Man; all of those people who'd been egging the two of them on all of those years ago, and now, recently (for whatever reason that he couldn't understand) must have been getting to him. He looked up and realized that it was a good thing that he'd stopped walking when he had, because he was now two steps from slamming his kneecaps straight into the picket-fence of his house and, while not necessarily the most painful thing in the world (c'mon, we're talking about the guy who got turned to stone thanks to the work of two psychic Pokemon blasts, and the same one who's almost drowned at least four times), it would still leave him stinging in ways and places that he didn't feel like stinging, thanks.

He opened the gate and made his way to the front door, shuffling his feet and kicking at each step of the staircase as he walked his way up it. Then he was just as easily through the unlocked front door, into the living room, where Misty was sitting, innocently watching her daily soap operas. This, unfortunately, was a ritual of hers that Ash - no matter what he tried - couldn't seem to break. He had hidden the remote, unhooked the cable wiring, requested that the channels with aforementioned 'real life drama' be switched offline, but it was all for not, because - as was made obvious through the years they spent traveling together, Misty was (at least a little) smarter than him, and she beat back every trick he tried to pull. It was just a good thing that, at this point, he'd learned to live with it.

"Hey. . ." He sighed despondently as he collapsed beside her onto the couch, shoving his former thoughts of the two of them, together (dating), to the back of his mind so that she wouldn't be able to tell that he'd ever had them; that way he couldn't be accused of some senseless thing such as being a pervert. "Uhm, how was today?"

Truthfully, Misty had been frustrated over the forced amount of bed rest she was having to go through the past week-and-a-half, and he knew it, so he didn't know why he was bothering to ask when he was just going to get yet another earful. But, contrary to popular belief, the redhead shrugged as though careless on the matter and seemed to reach a zenith of peace.

"Well, I'm still stuck here with nothing better to do, but at least I can watch my soaps, and I can always go up to the Professors, if need be, to see the Pokemon. . . so I guess it's not that bad. How are you doing? Why do you look like someone just shoved a lemon in your mouth?" She picked up the remote and turned the television off then turned to face Ash and give him her undivided attention, and he rolled his eyes, grunting in an immature way.

"I do not look like I've had a lemon shoved in my mouth, of all ridiculous things. . ." But Misty glared, and to avoid any confrontation that he knew she would not be afraid to be involved in, he continued speaking, ". . . but if it looks like I have, then blame Gary. Stupid ass; I met up with him when I was just walking around town and he decided that it would be oh-so fun to stop me and go on and on - bragging - about whatever date he's going to be bringing tomorrow night," noticing the ex-Gym Leader of Cerulean, Ash quirked an eyebrow, "Don't tell me you forgot? The anniversary party? My moms and the Professors?" Her eyes widened even more and she looked slightly mortified, but for whatever reason he couldn't care less, because for the time being, it seemed he had worse problems; problems to do with him. "Anyway, he kept egging me on, and so, like an idiot, I took the bait and ended up telling him that I'd be bringing a girl who'd look who-knows-how-much-more fabulous than his. . ."

"Ever heard of putting a foot in your mouth and thinking things through before you actually _do _them. . . ?" The two took a moment to stare at each other before - again - both snorted and turned in opposite directions for just a moment to let the laughter subside. "Ugh, and now I've got the same problem, because I completely forgot all about it. . ."

"So, why is that a problem? At least you're not expected to bring some especially wonderful-looking date tomorrow evening. . ."

"Yea, but I still don't have anyone to go with me. . ." They both leant back into the seat cushions, collapsing with a unanimous sigh.

"You know, it's times like these when I really wish I knew a girl; I mean, that way I wouldn't have any problems in going to the party, because I'd always have a back-up plan." Ash shrugged, before feeling the boring of two blue-green eyes burning through his profile. "Er, lemme guess; you disagree on something I said?"

Misty didn't answer immediately. She was working her way down from a shrieking match at the inconsiderate way Ash had been talking about the female half of the human species in general, but when it really boiled down to it, there was something in the back of her mind - a small voice - that was urging her along, egging her along to ask the question, 'Since when am I not a girl to you?' She simply ignored it, something that she had grown very good at over the years when she'd had that crush on Ash that was so infuriating and terribly difficult to get over. . . and ground out her overall point of a statement.

"Ash, what makes you think that any girl would be interested in going anywhere with you, the way you're acting right now? You talk like that's all we're good for. It's disgusting. Forget about the fact that we may have professions, minds, abilities of our own that occupy our lives. You're worse than Brock with that attitude." For something so tainted, she sure stated it in a calm enough tone.

He quirked an eyebrow at her but didn't ignore what she had to say, perhaps understanding what her point was for once.

"Alright. I get it. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just. . . not happy with the way things are going to obviously turn out tomorrow night when I get to the lab and Gary's there with whatever 'beautiful girl' he managed to hook under his arm, and I've got no one. And don't tell me again just how much my fault it was that this happened. . . I get it, okay?" He finished bitterly, turning away from her like a disappointed child.

"I wasn't going to go there again, Ash; don't worry about it. Hey, how about this? A proposal that if neither of us finds a date before tomorrow evening, we promise to spend the evening together, huh? I mean, I'm sure everyone at the actual party will already have someone - or more than one person - to occupy their time with, and we don't want to look like idiots anyway; at least, I don't."

Knowing already that the likelihood of him finding a girl who was willing to go to some more-than-likely strangers' anniversary party by the next day was very low, Ash gave his thoughts a slight moment to collect themselves as he 'hummed' in satisfaction of this plan.

"Yea, okay; I'm good with that."

**O**o**O**o**O**

To avoid any utter confusion about their relationship ship, Ash and Misty would later reach an understanding that they would leave their house and arrive at the Oak's at separate (but mildly similar) times. It wasn't like it was a secret that they were sharing living exprenses (however one-sided that might have seemed), but as everyone seemed to have been making passes at them about their secret love affair with one another recently. . . well. . . they felt it would be only fair to the other to give themselves a break. Misty would arrive first, looking simple in a dark evening gown that accented her pale complexion to its fullest ability, and then Ash would arrive, looking oh-so-very casual, as was his nature, because he couldn't stand dinner jackets, or bow-ties, or buckles and belts, or any other fancy garment of the type. He was all sweater-vests and slacks. . . er. . . minus the sweater-vests because they were, like, the worst thing ever created on the face of the planet.

They met up at a small dinner table in the middle of the backyard (where the reception was being held) and grinned lightly to one another, and though things hadn't turned out as they'd expected - possibly even hoped - that they would, though Ash and Misty hadn't been able to snag a date for themselves, it was just as fine to be in one another's company.

"Glad to see you found your way here without my help, Ashy-boy."

Ash scowled. And here he thought that the mood would be light and airy. Who was he kidding?

"Glad to see the guys in Pallet still have as much sense as I remember them having, seeing as none of them have asked you to dance, or even looked at you yet. Shows you they know what they'd be getting into." She growled in response, but he stuck his tongue out immaturely to show a sign that he was simply making conversation in the way that they were used to and that he didn't mean anything by it, no matter how cruel it may have seemed, and she let it go.

"Well, you weren't here earlier. . . when Gary came around."

"Gary?" And suddenly Ash was quite glad that the two of them had chosen to come at two different times, seeing as he wouldn't have wanted to be around when the run-in with his kind-of, sort-of ex-rival had taken place. "Er, what did he have to say?"

"Oh, nothing much. He was waiting for his date to get here still; it seems she's from out of town, someone he met while researching in Saffron or something. But he just happened to be making last-minute rounds to help Professor Oak out and make sure everything was set up the right way, and he saw me and decided to show some actual _backbone_, as you might say." Ash was suddenly irritated and he didn't know why. He knew what Misty meant by that. Gary had attempted to flirt with her, or complimented her at the very least. And he was aggravated; so as all aggravated people would most likely resort to to release tension, he began to tap his fingers one by one against the table-top.

". . . What's up with you?" Misty asked, raising one of her delicate eyebrows, but she was interrupted. It was at this point that most of the guests had started to arrive in groups, large groups at that, and Sam and Delia stepped up onto the podium erected in front of the tables, intending to pick up the microphone there and make a small speech before allow the music to start and the festivities to really begin.

"Welcome, you all, to this little get-together in celebration of the anniversary of mine and Delia's marriage of three years now. . . !" And Professor Oak looked as though the time had flown so fast with his youth. "I've spent some of the best years of my life as her neighbor, as her son's mentor, and now, the greatest of all, as her husband." He glanced endearingly at her and she returned it, ". . . and I feel greatful to you all for wanting to grant us these few hours in appreciation of our relationship, which I hope lasts as long as the definition of forever dictates."

"Oh, thanks, Sammy. . ." Overly-emotional Delia wiped a single tear from her eye before leaning in and pecking him on the cheek, then whispering lightly, ". . . If you don't mind, I'd like to say a little something. . ." And he nodded before handing her the microphone so that, two seconds later, her slightly wavering tone echoed over it to the ever-still crowd.

"Well, as Sammy said, this is in celebration of us, but we have to thank all of you for more than just being here for today. A lot of you have been a part of our lives in this quaint little town for much longer than just the past couple of years, and so it means more to us than just these few hours will ever be able to show you, just how much we appreciate it. Gary, your grandfather knows how you didn't exactly. . . approve of our relationship at first," and she turned her gaze on him to see him turn his head away for a second, his cheeks glowing red, before he shook it off and gazed at her again in an attentive sort of way, "but that you would be here now, helping us over the past however long, and showing how you've grown proves to us that you're more than willing to overcome that, and so we thank you. May, Brock, Drew, Simone. . . you all are important to my son, his friends, and though he's known some of you longer and better than others, he regards you all dearly, and so I do as well, as does my husband. You've been there for us as well, no matter how subtlely, and we want you to know that you will always be family. My sons and daughters. . ." She closed her eyes and smiled softly, a hand over her heart. Even Ash had to admit, that line had touched him.

". . . Mom. . ."

But Misty did not allow herself to feel as everyone else did. She had listened, and she had been thrilled when the thoughts had turned to Ash's "friends". . . but she had not neglected to notice that her name was not mentioned. Perhaps the way Ash glanced at her two seconds later, and the way May and Brock did so as well from across the room, meant that they recognized that as well.

". . . And finally, my son." Delia's eyes were open again as she stared in his direction, "You know how much you mean to me, and all that you've done for me makes me wonder sometimes what I've done to deserve you. . ." She took a moment to dry another tear, ". . . but then again, I also wonder for a moment after that if you're helping me so much straight forward is your way of shirking off your chores in the background. . ." She smiled as an afterthought at him and he grinned at her.

". . . Mom!" He said, slightly embarrassed, knowing where she was going with this.

"I do hope you're continuing to change your underwear _everyday_! Just because you do so much for me in other categories doesn't mean you can avoid such an important part of your daily curriculum! Remember! You get up by eight o'clock at the _latest_, shower, eat a _healthy _breakfast, brush your teeth _and _your hair. . ."

"_Mom_!" He said, turning his gaze around the grounds and noticing everyone else's attention was starting to wander just slightly so that they could settle their own laughter.

"Yes, yes; fine. . . but I'm only saying these things because I love you, you know." Then, so suddenly that Misty almost felt like she was going to be thrown backwards in retaliation, Delia turned her eyes on the redhead; "Misty; don't think that I forgot about you. You haven't been as great a part of our lives as I'd have wanted over the past few years, and it's hurt me, and my Ash."

_It hurt me, too. . ._ Misty realized quite suddenly, even though it wasn't so sudden. She'd known forever that she wanted to stay involved with her friends' lives, but her position at the gym simply hadn't. . . _allowed_. . . for that, had it? There was nothing she could have done, and - oh - how she had tried. And now that she was being lectured by Mrs. Ketchum, of all people - _excuse me_, Mrs. _Oak _- she felt the after-effects of losing the strength of those friendships ever the more.

"But I understand what happened; don't think that I don't. Life is a crazy, uncontrollable thing. And the things that happen in it are sometimes addictive. A moral like that is nothing but accepted by a single mother in this day and age, however unregrettable such an experience may have been for me. And you're here now, so it should be all that matters. . . however, I cannot call you my daughter." And Misty couldn't help feeling her heart break, even if only just a little.

She had always thought that, even if something fell through with Ash, with any of her friends, or with her sisters, she could've counted on Mrs. former-Ketchum, now-Oak, as a surrogate mother, but. . .

". . . and that is simply because a daughter is required to have strictly platonic feelings for her brother, isn't she?" The world silenced, and Misty wanted to bang her head against something very big, heavy, and hard. A giant boulder would've cut it for her, ". . . And vice-versa, am I right, Ashy?" And Delia's gaze turned to her son as though he'd been having naughty-naughty thoughts about his best friend for the past six years or something completely ridiculous like that. "But you two have always had something special going for you; something unreasonably crackling, electric, a flame that won't go out, even if it's not burning it's brightest right now."

"_Mom_!" Ash was so very red right now that he looked faint. Many people had inferred that he and Misty had a thing for each other, especially when they were younger, and recently, but it was subtle for the most part, and even when it was obvious, it could have been blown off. . . but now, in front of all these people. . . Ugh. . . !

"Well, Ashy, you can't let these feelings go on forever without acting on them! I mean, it's ridiculous! Just let it go already and tell her; she would be such a better daughter-_in-law _to me than a daughter, and you two are always so cute together, and so nice around one another. . ." This didn't just earn a snort from the two of them, but also from May and Brock. Apparently Delia had forgotten all about the violence, the insulting, the spats (no matter how 'lover-'involved they might have been, the breeder and coordinator had to admit). . . "Well, fine, then if you want to keep things the way they are, I'll finish now and let you all get to the party. But I guarantee it won't be nearly as interesting as the relationship my Ash has with his best friend, even though he won't admit it!" She went on ravingly until Sam managed to coax the microphone from her hands. She huffed indignantly - no matter how unlike her that was - and sniffed; until they both heard the music start up anyway, and he succeeded in asking her politely to dance, to which she accepted quite eagerly, no matter how upset she was.

After seeing that his mother wouldn't embarrass him any further, Ash turned back to Misty again, slightly scarlet, intent on carrying on his former conversation with her; after all, they had been interrupted by such speeches as the one that, not for the first time, insinuated the two of them were going to be getting together sometime very soon. Ash felt himself scoff somewhere in the back of his mind. As if.

"You asked what's up with me?" He questioned her, as though disbelieving, although whether it was to her abilities of perception or her meddlesome ways, she would have no idea at that point.

"Yea, I said Gary came onto me, and you suddenly looked all haughty and stuff. . ." It dawned on Misty for a moment the possibilities of such a reaction. Ash could be jealous; it was very possible, especially when it came down to the old rivalry that seemed to still subtlely blow between the two boys like a never ending flame.

"Not on your life; I'm just annoyed at the fact that Gary thinks it's okay to even pay so much. . . inappropriate attention to another girl when he's got a date that should be arriving sometime soon. Unless. . . you're the date. You said she was someone from out of town, and. . . Oh, ew, bad thought - you're not suddenly gonna come out with some huge announcement about how the two of you are engaged and how you're pregnant with his child, are you?" He pointed at her as though semi-disgusted, his nose crinkled in distaste at the topic at hand, even though he'd been the one to bring it up.

"Ash; you ass!" She removed one of her many seven-foot-tall mallets from its invisible sheath (that space-time pocket that she always whips her weapons out from) and ripped him a new one, and was just about to continue the assault when May, Drew, and Brock managed their way over, seemingly in much of a hurry; the redhead couldn't help but wonder if it was because they wanted to prevent her from killing her best friend, not that it'd necessarily be an accident.

". . . _So_, guys, how has it been going for you two these past couple of days?" May managed to ask as Brock coaxed the mallet-wielding girl to throw her weapon away for now.

"Just fine until Mr. Jealous, here, had to bring up the fact that I might be secretly in love with his rival and preparing to bare his child!" Misty shrieked, and Ash flinched from his place on the ground, although, since he'd been trying to pick himself up off of it at the time, perhaps that was simply out of pain from moving the wrong way.

"Jealous! Jealous? What are you talking about! I'm just assuring you that we're on the same page about what you were discussing with me yesterday, Myst! That stuff about girls and how they want to be treated with respect and all that; do you really think Gary's date, no matter who she is, would like to know that he was over at this table, flirting with you, while she was trying oh-so-hard simply to make it here?" Misty had to stop for a moment and think about that, considering that Ash rarely ever spoke with such. . . well. . . maturity. About anything. Ever. In nearly his entire life. And he was right; all except for one thing. . .

". . . Ash, all Gary really did was say that he respected me, including my skills as a trainer, Gym Leader, and woman, but that he respected my decision to break away from my position at the Gym the most because it showed that I knew what was best for me when the going gets tough, and that's what counts when things are going crazy." So she had led him on, just a little, and maybe it had been just a teensy-bit fun for her to watch him grow so agitated. . . but she'd never respected he'd blaze into such a speech as he had about womens' rights. . . She had to admit, she respected him just a bit more for that.

"B - but. . . you said. . . what about the coming onto you? And the flirting? And the _bakbone-showing_! Agh! Misty. . . !" He finished in an abrupt whine. May, Drew, and Brock thought it best to let the two of them work this out on their own, especially now that Misty had admitted to a fault of some sort and wouldn't dare mess up an apology of any sort by bashing Ash's head in; in other words, it was safe enough to make an escape and knew that they could come back and find the two friends alive still later on. Hopefully. If something didn't completely, horribly, and utterly wrong (which it probably would, but since they didn't want to think about the details, they chose to leave the situation at that).

"Well, you were the one that started the whole misinterpretation, and I just thought it was. . . kind of. . . funny, so I couldn't help it." Misty didn't look him in the eyes as she shrugged. She wouldn't apologize. It wasn't necessarily her fault, and it wasn't necessarily his either, so she didn't expect him to apologize to her. "Just don't blame Gary; that's all I'm asking of you. He's not as bad as you want to think, simply because he can get a girl to date him on a whim and you can't."

"Hey, I'll have you know that--" The words drowned in Ash's throat as arms wrapped around his neck from behind and he felt soft, plump breasts sitting smoothly there against the curve of his back, "--that I. . . that I have no idea who's got hold of me but if she doesn't let go right now, I might be forced to take drastic action. . ." He was grinning, though. It was a joke. He'd recognize the ring on that finger anywhere; he allowed the simplest nod and grin as Simone pulled away from him and he turned his attention suddenly to her, ignoring Misty's affronted stare, then glare, then 'hmph!' as she faced another direction so as to avoid their little flirtations.

For whatever reason, she knew that it would infuriate her.

"Hey, Ashy, how's it goin'?" The lovely girl winked intentionally at him, drawing a strand of ebony hair behind her ear because it had fallen into her facial area and begun to annoy her when she'd leant in on him a moment ago. "I haven't seen you in awhile, you know. Just because I don't have things for you to do around the house at the moment, it doesn't mean that you can't stop by every. . . once - in - a - while!" With every final syllable, she flicked higher up his chest. "If you don't, I might tend to miss your carresses. . ." And, with that, she began to lean in, the hand formerly sweeping up his chest resting on his cheek as she seemingly prepared to envelope him in a romantic embrace. . .

. . . That was, until Misty firstly slammed a fist onto the table, interrupting the both of them and causing them to jump about half a foot into the air. When they'd both turned to glance at her with semi-wide eyes, she managed a tight-lipped smile, hoping that it didn't look too disturbing, and extended a hand, which seemed to be shaking. . . But, Ash noticed, since it was the hand she'd just slammed so hard against the wooden tabletop, perhaps it was just pained.

"Hello, I'm Misty; I don't think we've met. . ." The redhead forced through gritted teeth.

"I'm Simone, one of Ash's best friends. . . Oh, that's right; Misty!" The speech that Mrs. Ketchum-Oak had given seemed to redawn on her, "What is she to you again, Ashy?" Simone asked after quickly taking hold of Misty's hand and shaking it lightly, then turning her attention to him again, "Your. . . er. . . girlfriend; lover; fiancee; wife. . . ?" Looking more uncomfortable with each suggestion, Ash attempted to shake the conversation off.

"What are you, kidding? Have you seen how violent she is?" He gave a quick laugh and then took a fierce hold of Simone's hand, staring so deeply into her eyes it was like some sappy romance movie, "No, no; Simone, it's you I've always wanted. . . You know that, right? So much sweeter, so much more fulfilling, so much more feminine, so much sexier!"

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" And just as Misty made a move to reach across the table and strangle him, Ash let go of Simone's hand and they both turned away, collapsing into a fit of laughter. ". . . Wait; huh. . . ?"

"Sorry about that, Misty. . . It's just something we do, something we've done for awhile." And Simone cracked up into giggles again before clearing her throat.

"Yea, I didn't mean to insult you or anything Myst, really, but I can't very well let Simone beat me, can I? I mean, I'm Ash Ketchum. . . !" He stated in indignant pride, prodding his thumb at his own chest.

"I suppose you've had to deal with this, too, at some point or another. . ." Simone sighed with exasperation, waving a hand in Misty's direction.

And as Misty caught on to the way things were between them, she became aware of the bittersweetness pounding away at her chest. Simone had said she was one of her Ash's best friends; she, Misty, had been like that with him, too, at one point. . . and Simone went on about his tendencies, and their actions together, as though it was such common knowledge for her, and it saddened Misty to think about how she couldn't recognize what was going on when she saw it playing out straight in front of her face. She missed being that close with them, and finally being so close for such an extended period of time (at least, extended compared to what she was used to at this point) left her feeling somewhat empty and unaware of something in comparison to what she'd hoped to feel upon being with them during these times as adults; for she'd often wondered as a teenager if they would remain such good friends throughout their young adulthood, and then she'd shake off that wonder and fixate herself on the absolution. . . Of course they would. . . ! There was no reason to doubt it. . . but then all that had happened, and she was left with this now. . .

Ash's voice suddenly brought her back to reality.

"Myst, er, look, I know we made that promise, and - if you want - I can intend to keep it, but Simone's invited me to meet some of her college friends, and to dance with her." Misty was suddenly that much more aware of their surroundings. Something tugged at her somewhere she hadn't felt in a very long time, but she chose to ignore it for the moment, "So I was just wondering if maybe I could accept the invitation, considering all we'll probably do is make threats to kill each other the rest of the night." That hadn't been anything near what Misty had been planning on, although, as the thought ran through her mind, the next one began to plague her; then just what _had _she hoped for. . . ?

"Uh, sure, go on. You're right; we weren't doing anything worthwhile, were we. . . ?" She closed her eyes so he couldn't read her like he might have known to do by now, and grinned as widely as possible without allowing it to look fake, then waved them off and told them to have a good time. She watched her best friend from the table they'd been sharing since they're arrival, as he allowed himself to be cornered by a bunch of foreigners (most of which were girls, and most of which were fascinated with the fact that he was Ash Ketchum, famous Pokemon Trainer, which suited him just fine). She also watched as he joined Simone on a wide platform where many other couples, including May and Drew, and the Prof and his wife, were traipsing carefully around each other, making sure to gracefully watch for their partners feet. She viewed all of this from her little corner, including the scene that was Ash allowing Simone to envelope him, him placing a hand on her quaint waist, and her on his shoulder, and then they both locked fingers with their other hands and began to do something similar to a waltz, although it wasn't as neat, considering Ash was acting it out.

But it was nice to watch somehow, and sad. . . and Misty allowed the smile to return for the second when Ash glanced in her direction, and then let it drop immediately after. She knew this was too easy for her, considering it wasn't the first time she'd had to go through with it. . . but why was she feeling this now. . . ?

". . . I need a drink."

Ash and Simone, meanwhile, continued to dance for the next twenty or so minutes, and by the time Ash was starting to feel thirsty, he was also starting to notice that maybe he was spending a little too much time straying away from his pact with Misty.

"Hey, Simone, I think I'll go get something to drink and then head back to my table; you see, Myst and I. . . we sorta had this thing planned, or not planned, for tonight, and I don't wanna make her angry by fudging it up, you know? But thanks for the dance. . . !" He finished with a grin.

"Oh, no problem; and please don't get Misty mad. She looks like she could breathe fire under too much duress. . . so you just go do what you have to do. It was fun, Ash, I had a nice time. Thanks. . . !" The girl shouted as he walked swiftly away, but as he began to march back to the table where he and his best friend had been all night to invite her along with him while he went to quench his thirst, he realized that there was no one there.

_Sh - she didn't leave, did she. . . ? _He wondered, worried that he'd already gone too far and upset her and their relationship in the currency beyond repair. But as he decidedly began to head towards the backdoor leading into the laboratory, and was thinking of heading home to try and find her there, he came across the makeshift bar, and recognized a head of vibrant red hair, as if he could ever forget it.

". . . Lookey, Ash!" She gasped in a fake drunk voice, pulling him uncomfortably close and forcing him to stare at who was serving the alcohol. "T'is Jamesie and Jess!" She pointed unnecessarily as though trying to puncture a hole in the air, and then began to giggle before letting him go.

Ash sighed. He remembered when she had first twenty-one, and he had offered to take her out for her first-ever drink. She had been a bit off upon acceptence, but he'd won her over in the end and taken her to a place Brock had mentioned to him, and after awhile, she'd lightened up. . . and soon after that, she'd offered him a challenge; that she could convince any not-exactly sober customer in the bar that she was drunk as a martini on Ladies Night in less than thirty seconds per round. All she needed was a half-full glass of alcohol (she didn't care what it was, considering she was so new she barely knew what was what anyway), a stopwatch, and two minutes in the bathroom. He agreed, bet her twenty dollars per customer, and she left him standing outside the womans' room. . .

. . . And when she emerged again exactly one minute and fifty-seven seconds later, he had to admit, he might have fallen for the stunt purely on appearance. Her hair had been ruffled, her clothes wrinkled, and she'd placed heavy eyeliner under her eyes. But while appearance was one thing, the act in itself was another. Unfortunately for Ash, he himself hadn't been thinking that evening, and had forgotten just how much experience in the drama career she had had before then. . .

He lost almost three hundred dollars that night, not including the money it took to buy Misty her 'first-ever drink.' And Ash had never learned such a valuable lesson, considering how foully he'd been played; and by his best friend, of all people!

"Get your girlfriend out of here, Twerp!" Jessie stated irritably in her red and white striped uniform with the black slacks and bowtie, "She keeps forcing us to recite the motto. . ." And as Misty giggled fake-drunkenly again, Jessie shouted seethingly, "Get it through your thick, wasted head; we are _not _a part of Team Rocket anymore. . . !"

"It's nice to see you guys, too; but, you know, you could just tell her 'no' when she tells you to say it. . ." Ash shrugged as if it was no big deal, but James gave a quick shudder.

"Twerp, your girl is violent enough when she's sober; do you even want to actually think of her under the influence?"

As he considered the statement, Ash knew the reply to it, but considering he knew Misty was actually quite sober at that point in time, he didn't want to risk himself right then and there, so he chose not to reply. Instead he turned to Misty and grabbed her around the shoulder, causing her to swing around and face him with clear eyes.

"'Kay, Myst, cut it out now. . ."

"Phht, why should I. . . ?" She shook him off of her and Jessie and James looked highly affronted at her suddenly clear speech, knowing that it meant she'd been fooling them before; not that it'd been that hard.

"Awe, c'mon. . . I was going to invite you to drink with me, anyway. Don't you wanna _really _get wasted?" He asked her.

She had to admit, that was a very tempting offer, considering, ". . . _Maybe_."

"Okay, then; you guys carry shot glasses, don't you?" He asked Jessie and James, then to his best friend, "First one down pays the catering fees for mom and the Prof.?"

"Not that I've ever been drunk a day in my life, but sure; I'll see you tomorrow, when you wake up with that killer hangover of yours. Oh, and just so you can determine who I am, I'll be the one with the wide grin and the clear head." She raised the glass that James had just poured her, waving it high as though toasting to the situation.

"Talk is cheap."

"But the way you're going on, you're cheaper."

And Ash noticed that she'd already finished her first glass and was moving onto her second.

**O**o**O**o**O**

((Anonymous things that probably should have been tagged with a number, but weren't because I'm too lazy to bother anymore--))

**Misty, The Feminist, and Ash, The Feminists' Slave **- Well, only because he's scared she's going to kill him and what with her and her loud personality. . . I just keep being reminded of Hermione from Harry Potter, and we all know how she is with Ron when it comes down to him dissing girls about their less-than-centered noses and stuff. . .

**Eldershipping **- WooT! The Eldershipping shot has been initially finished! I've gotten a few. . . less than positive. . . comments about the fact that this ship plays a role in this fic, but I've already explained why I placed Ash's mom with the Prof. (that being that I didn't think I should have to kill her off in every one of my fics just to get her out of the house and set up the situation for Misty to move in in her place), but even so, I just thought I'd let you all know that you won't have to see much more of it now that this chapter is over. The Eldershipping, even here, was just the filler ship to help along the Pokeshipping coming along later, and even if I might mention "Delia and Sam did this," or "the Prof. and Mrs. Ketchum-Oak went here," it's going to be a filler statement for a scene that will either be Pokeshippy or humorous, or both. You'll see more of what I mean when those types of things actually come along, though.

**Simone Hawkins **(2.0) - I think you all misunderstood in the last chapter, when I explained the possibilities of her and Ash's relationship. When I mentioned how 'Now I leave it up to you to decide whether or not _you think _she'll stand in the way of them or help them along,' I meant exactly that; that I was leaving it up to you and your opinions of how you wanted to think she was going to be. Just because you say she is going to be in the way of them doesn't mean she will be, unfortunately, and just because you say she won't doesn't mean she won't. That's not to say that you're right or wrong, obviously, but at least one of you commented on her in particular in a way that stated you wanted her to be a certain way and you were sure your comment would affect her role in the fic. Sorry, but it won't.

**Notes **- Oh, my God; an update. Do you think you're going to cry? Because I just might. . . Lol. . . No, really. I'm so sorry this took as long as forever and a day to get out, but I'm afraid that's how it's going to be for now at least, and I'll explain why. It's not even to do with lack of inspiration anymore, but simply because I don't have much time to sit down for extended periods of it and simply write like I used to. I'm a full-time student in college now, I have a part-time job, I have at least two and a half hours of appointments per week, then there's the travel-time to school and work (I work outside of the county I live in, and I take the bus to school, which is forty minutes there and forty back). . . Then there's my duties at home. Count in the times when I might need to stay after school to study, when I have to go to places like the library, the bank, etc., and you're lucky to even see anything at all from me, aren't you. . . ? But no, really, I'd probably hang myself if I couldn't update at least one thing somehow, even if it'll be another who-knows-how-long until I can do it again. . . I'm sorry; I'll try harder. . . But you know. . .

. . . Reviews make an author's day brighter!

**Spoiler **- The next morning, Ash finds out that Misty was right about one thing especially, that being that he has a killer hangover. . . but before he can deal with that, he must deal with something else; he must find out first of all how the hell he and Misty ended up in bed together after finding their way home from the anniversary party. And then he has to scrape his memory to attempt to find bits and pieces of possibly naughty things that may have occurred. . . Could he and Misty have done something regrettable the evening before? If so, and if he remembers it, how will he break it to her, since she doesn't seem to remember, and wakes up far later than him. . . ? Will their friendship ever be the same again? Or will it ever even be a friendship at all?


	5. When It's Up to Us

**Author** - Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer** - I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes** - I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

OoOoO

**Pokemon** - "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Five** - "When It's Up to Us"

Fic Facts:

**Summary** - Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating** - Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

Characters and Ages -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August** of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **March** of **2006**.

This chapter was officially created **January** through **August**, **2007**.

**O**o**O**o**O**

Ash woke up next morning feeling quite hot, a stale taste in his mouth. He didn't have to move to know that his head was going to pound worse than it was at this point in time if he tried sitting up. So, instead, he decided to contemplate on how he'd gotten home.

Because he remembered what had happened. Kind of. He remembered sitting down with Misty at the bar where Jessie and James were serving the guests drinks. And someone stupid (probably him, but at this point he couldn't remember) had proposed an alcohol consumption contest between he and his best friend. Again, he had trouble remembering at this point, but most common case scenario, it was his fault.

Groaning, he decided he'd have to get up and face the hangover at some point that day, preferably before nightfall, and so he sat up. Sort of. Somehow, he was being held back; something had gotten a hold of his neck, a strong hold at that. He would have assumed at first that he had just accidentally wrapped himself too roughly in the blankets, but that didn't seem to be the case. When he raised his arms to start pulling at the fabric, he found that said fabric was a little. . . thick? And squishy. Just a bit squishy for his tastes.

Hmm. Some people would make a problem out of this, but not Ash. Not yet, anyway. Did he bring some random girl home last night? Ooh, boy. What about Misty. He sure as hell hoped he hadn't locked her out. . .

Deciding he'd better get up and see if his best friend had been forced to sleep on the stoop, Ash leapt out of bed, a bit cautiously, but obviously not enough so as to prevent the throbbing from starting up. He'd have to remember to pick up some aspirin for that later. Making sure that the arm that had been laying across his neck was now safely on the mattress, he walked as gracefully as possible, able to keep from swaying.

And then the window was thrown open and he was looking down past the rays of the glaring sunshine towards the front yard. And he could see a lot of things through his poorly beaten brain, no matter how blurred they were. Finally, he was able to ascertain that there was no best friend sleeping on the lawn. Good. He felt a bit better now.

So he turned around and went to deal with his second problem; the random girl that he'd brought home from his mom's anniversary party (which felt wrong in itself). And he saw red hair. And a familiar sleeveless gown bunched up around a young woman's pale yet shapely thighs.

It was Misty. In his bed.

Suddenly, that bad feeling was back again.

No, wait, it was worse, and even worse than worse.

Ash rushed to the bathroom and bent over the toilet, letting out his wretched feelings and fear all at once. He could handle a lot of things; he really could, he knew. But this was his limit. He had thought it was bad to leave his friend on the front stoop, but to end up in the same _bed _with her? What the hell was that? It - it made no sense! He knew he had been wasted last night, but it still seemed. . .

. . . Ash vowed to himself right then and there that he would _never _mention the event to anyone, Brock, May, or Misty. Because that would mean the _death _of him.

Now, wait; he had to think clearly about this, he had to decipher the situation properly. . .

He sighed and pulled a washcloth from the linen cabinet, wringing it through with warm water and throwing it across his face. He scrubbed hurriedly, hoping it would alleviate him of some of those feelings and some of that nastiness. And then he went back to his room, standing at his door, facing his bed, and stared at his best friend, who laid there and continued to breathe deeply and contentedly, unawares of the crisis at hand.

Right; time to think. Think clearly. And the situation was. . . ? Him. Misty. Bed. Same. He and Misty. Same bed. He and Misty had _SLEPT _in the _SAME _bed. That whole thinking clearly process? What a load of bull.

The only upside to this, Ash comforted himself in noting, was that he and his best friend still seemed to be at least half-clothed. He drew the rag across his forehead again, sighing, before old memories his adolescent self had hoped never to dredge up thought back to Brock. And Brock's porno. And the many twisted, detailed, adventurous tales of sex that the characters of those stories had gotten themselves into. And a good few of them had been _fully_-clothed.

Oh, lovely. Damn to Brock, who had firstly corrupted Ash's mind, and then somehow had managed to teach the poor boy some of those tricks. After all, the doubts seemed to lessen as time slowly passed. . . It was getting more and more likely that something really had happened. The perception was that something. . . _must_. . . have happened, because there was no other way he could feel so _bad _after having just woken up - you know - other than the hangover.

He had to think of some way out of this, some way out that would allow for his survival and less anger than could be promoted on Misty's behalf. He moaned; there was no way. He had to try, though, he decided, so he headed downstairs to drown himself in painkillers and think it all through somemore.

Ten minutes later he had two glasses of water and four Tylonel sitting in front of him on the coffee table in the sitting room, but he wasn't swallowing his down yet. He was waiting; just waiting for the telltale signs of an awakening person upstairs. The creak of a floorboard, the groan of a young woman with a seriously bad migraine, the shriek of aforementioned woman when she realized that she was in the wrong bed. . .

Oh, no. He had to prevent this. He knew he could prevent this.

So Ash started thinking.

_Ow_.

Right; medicine first. Then think.

. . . _Riiiight_. . . _Better_. . . He thought about twenty minutes later, grateful that he hadn't heard anything yet. Okay, so first thing was to gather a blanket and pillow from the linen closet. Mom always kept extras from years ago for when he stopped by after a League and just happened to bring friends (whether they be Misty and Brock, or May, Max, and Brock, or etc.) because there were never enough beds, so someone always had to use the floor, and someone had to stick to the pull-out sofa.

Hooray for pull-out sofas!

He carefully sprawled out the blanket that he'd pulled from the closet on the couch and placed the pillow diagonally against the head. As he thought about it, he realized. . . no thoroughly drunken person out of their mind would have the gall to put together a sofa-bed. It was too much of a complicated situation.

So then he was done and he was back to sitting and thinking again. Only this time, the thinking started just in time for there to be a loud crowing heard from upstairs.

"Ugh, ow. . . !"

Alright, okay, he just had to breathe; she couldn't - repeat - could not kill him if there was obvious evidence supporting the theory that he hadn't slept in the same bed with her, nor had he slept with-with her.

He could hear things moving, could hear shuffling and pounding - which was amazing because Misty was supposed to be in as much pain as he had been when he'd woken up. . . and why wasn't she screaming in suspicion about the situation of waking up in _his _bed? She wasn't worried? She wasn't pissed?

Well, far be it for him to work her up. . .

The next thing he heard was the shower turning, water running. She didn't want her Tylonel? Now he was suspicious. . . Even so, he could take this chance to run, to move, before she came and clawed apart every area of his manhood that she could get her hands on. . .

No, no; he had to face this.

. . . But there was no reason to do it on an empty stomach.

So Ash headed for the kitchen and cleared the refridgerator. Mmm, honey-glazed ham. . . His mom had brought that over. . . Oh, a leftover double-cheeseburger from two nights ago when he'd scrounged from a local restaruant. . . ! Wait; what was that green fuzz. . . ? Okay, never mind that. . .

Hmm, there was always the cheese. . . No one can say 'no' to cheese. . .

Oh, Frosted Flakes! How, _greeaat(!) _was that?

Wow; he needed to go grocery-shopping.

He was starting to mentally put together a list when it sounded; the creak of the water turning off and whoever was in the shower making a move across the bathroom floor - most likely to find a towel. And then another sound, that of a door opening and closing and a mad dash towards a room across the hall.

He didn't have time for this after all. . . Man, since when did women take less than forty minutes in the shower? He wondered about it for about ten minutes before. . .

"Hey, Ash." Misty's greeting from behind him caused him to jump and, quite honestly, he would have spit something all over the place, had he been drinking anything at the time. He took another moment to think about how fast she'd been with everything but, really, looking at her, she'd finished her hygienic duties sloppily; such as her hair sitting up and wound in her towel.

"Oh, ah, Misty. 'Morning." Very subtle, he was; yep, she wouldn't figure a thing.

Misty, who had hurriedly dressed during his thinking process (which was just slightly below par anyway), dodged the armrest of the couch and grabbed the spot next to him.

"Oh, are these mine?" She asked, pointing at the aspirin on the table. Ash nodded without a word and Misty took them into her hand, followed by the glass of water, drinking it all down in three gulps.

"So, h - how's it going?" Ash started up awkwardly, hoping that if they had to talk about it, he wouldn't have to be the one to bring it up.

"Oh, you know, one of the worst hangovers imagineable, but I'll live. It was wierd to wake up so. . . out of place. . . though." She shrugged and he couldn't help staring at her wide-eyed, even if for just a moment before he realized he was doing it and turned to stare at the coffee table, "How about you? You know you lost last night, right?"

"Did I. . . ?" Quite honestly, he couldn't remember anything after the sixth or seventh shot (even the memory of how many he'd had was a bit unclear). "Well, I can't say that I expected any less, in the end." But, really, they'd slept together - and possibly _together _- and all she had to say about it was that it felt a bit strange, and out of place? "How many did it take you to realize it was time to call it quits?"

Misty didn't reply at first, and Ash noticed out of the corner of his eye that she was looking at him, almost in concern. It took him a second to realize that it was probably because he hadn't put up a fight about who'd won and lost the drinking contest.

". . . About twelve." She said slowly, deciphering his reaction to this. "I mean, I _could _have kept going, but I saw that you were face-first and snoring against the counter so I decided to let it go."

Ash snorted. No wonder they'd ended up in the same bed. Drunk; completely sloshed, the both of them.

But Misty didn't say anything else about it, and Ash didn't want to, so they spent the rest of the late morning and early afternoon acting like everything was absolutely okay. And with all of that time passing, things got more threatening in Ash's eyes.

Misty didn't say for sure anything he could trail back to how he'd woken up (and her, too), but she had offered to cook lunch, and when he'd turned down the offer (trying to take away the knife that she was going to use to slice the vegetables straight from her hands), she'd almost stolen a few fingers. She offered to clean out the refridgerator next, and go grocery shopping, but had ended up (in all of her mostly non-existant clumsiness) spilling spoiled milk and moldy hamburger patty all over the floor.

She asked him to pick it up while she made the shopping list, and he'd obliged, mostly out of fear and guilt (although he couldn't say which one he was most affected by).

And then she'd left and he'd had the chance to really think about how things were going.

Either she hated him all-together, or she had had way too much to drink last night (lingering hangover). Somehow, hating him seemed to factor in more.

Yea, she definitely did.

Ash went upstairs and made up the bed that they'd, er, shared (although hopefully not in that way), and he took a chance to stare around the rest of his room. . . and then he noticed it.

He knew it had all been too good to be true, the false hope giving him a high that he'd hoped to carry with him for the rest of his life (so he could never have to look back on all this and think about how he'd slept with his _best friend_).

Panties. Pretty, white panties with one of those little flower embroiderments on the front.

Definitely not his. He hoped. (He might have wandered into town in a drunken haze once or twice and bought certain -cough- items that he'd like to forget ever purchasing.

That was it, then. He'd done the nasty with Misty. Wow. It even sounded wierd and wrong when he tried to think about it like that. But, hell, it was a lot easier to see it that way, rather than _"making love."_

He leant down and tried to pick them up. Shoot; he was just too much of a coward. He tried again, but it was like there was some sort of invisible forcefield protecting them from his touch; his filthy, stinking, perverted touch.

He was just about to give up when he got up, turned towards the door leading into the upstairs hall, and happened to catch sight of his desk.

A pen. A clean, not-dirty pen that he could taint when picking up his best friend's panties with it. The world hated him, too.

He stared again at the lingerie for the next five minutes, not sure how to go about it. W - was he really allowed to do it? It was different somehow. Like, if these had belonged to any other woman (other than his mom), he wouldn't have had a problem. He'd done it before, in fact. It wasn't like this would have been his _first time_.

But these were Misty's. These were different. These were. . . untouchable.

Which was why he'd resorted to the pen, right? He reasoned it with himself and came to the conclusion that either he did this or he let them sit there until Misty came around and realized she was missing a pair. And then she'd blame him anyway for not bringing it up (because a.) it was unthinkable to discuss panties with your female best friend, let alone hers; and b.) bringing it up at all meant bringing up _why _they were there).

Finally, he had them. Sure, they were hanging off the side of the pen, but they weren't on his bedroom floor anymore. Now. . . what to do with them?

_"Gee, Misty, I hope I'm not breaking that 'best friend' rule when I say I found these just laying around. I figured you'd want them back?" _He thought of the introduction and almost kicked himself.

Sure; _that _would work.

It was fifteen minutes after this ordeal (so heart-stopping, isn't it?) when he heard something unfamiliar.

It was then that he realized it was the kitchen entrance door slam shut followed by a shout; "Ash, can you come help me with these bags?"

He panicked. He couldn't have her come up here and find him the way he was! Alone, in his bedroom, holding her panties (somehow still intimately even though they were hanging off the edge of a writing utensil)! She'd kill him worse than she must have already been planning!

So he stuffed them inside his pocket (forgetting the 'untouchable' rule) and ran downstairs, jumping two at a time.

Pikachu, who'd been sitting on the living room windowsill catching some sun, woke up and jumped off curiously, yawning. Her master was just a bit overzealous, it seemed. She knew, too, that something was up.

"Oh, Myst; here, let me take those for you!" He said kindly, ripping three of five bags out of her hands.

"Uhm, that's nice, Ash; thanks." They set them down and she took a moment to think of something else to say. "But, you know, if you wanted to help, you could have come along with me and helped me pick out what to get."

Oh, ouch. It wasn't the actual comment that stung, it was the truth behind it. The truth, as in the fact that he hadn't been there to say what what he wanted. . . which meant. . .

Ash took a look inside the bag and choked back a sob.

Celery stalks and carrots! Fat and sugar free! Instant ramen and TV dinners!

The world for him ended when he realized that he didn't see one hamburger patty or instant pizza in the whole lot.

Yeah; she definitely wanted him dead.

And he wanted to know why. It wasn't that he didn't _know_; it was more like he wanted her to admit that _that _was why if she was really going to go through with it.

"Pi. . . ? Pika. . . !" It was almost like Pikachu was trying to warn him, but he ignored her. It was just something he had to do.

But he decided, also, to bide his time; he wanted to be sure of how he would introduce the topic before bringing it up. Otherwise Misty would shoot him and Brock would want a full recount of the experience (which he couldn't give, simply because he didn't remember any of it).

So Ash and Misty did one of their first non-forced living activities together; that was, they ended up putting away the groceries. Ash because it was perfect in the sense that he'd ward off Misty's immediate wrath by being nice and have a chance to think of his coming conversation with her, and Misty because she hoped to figure out what the hell Ash was on about while she was trying to be helpful.

When it was all done (and nothing said, fortunately for one person while unfortunately for the other), Ash took all of the bags and threw half away while keeping the others for the bathroom and bedroom trashcans.

"Hey Misty, now that we won't starve, can I talk to you?"

"Oh, finally! I've been waiting for you to say that all day!"

Ash couldn't help but be confused now. He hadn't expected her to be so willing when it came down to it; maybe. . . maybe she had wanted him to bring it up all along? Maybe she had - somehow - been looking forward to it. . . ?

That possibility scared him, but excited him at the same time. He didn't really get it, but that's just how it was.

So they both took back their seats on the couch from earlier and Ash took advantage of the glass of old, tasteless water that was still sitting there from around four hours previously. Of course, he regretted it soon after.

Pikachu seemed to want nothing more to do with her masters' awkwardness, let alone his poorly-revised strategies, so she retreated back to the windowsill.

"Misty, I don't know how to say it. I mean, I've thought of plenty different things, but none of them seem to fit the situation at all and. . ." He was cut off by Misty's sigh.

". . . Yea, Ash, I feel the same. I guess that. . . all I can really say is, you know, _thank you_." The redhead sighed.

"Yea; back at you. But, anyway, what happened. . . it could change - wait, what?"

"Uhm, thank you. What you did last night meant a lot to me." She faced him with one of her brightest smiles, "It's been forever since I've had so much fun, and because it was you I was with, it was just _that _much better!"

"A - ah, I - I dunno what to say. . ." And, truly, he didn't. His mouth couldn't help hanging losely open. His brain had fully stopped functioning.

She was thanking him?

She thought it had been nothing but a load of fun?

And what the hell about him had made it so much better?

Rather than stroking his ego, which he probably could have afforded to do in any other situation, he took a moment to digest the things Misty was saying. . . but all it led back to was that. . . she'd enjoyed sleeping with him. Whatever he had done with her must have been wonderful because. . .

. . . Misty had _enjoyed _sleeping with Ash.

"B - but, Myst, aren't you worried?" She stared blankly at him as he asked the question. "I mean, the consequences? You know, those things that happen to people when they abort the karma-law and do things that they really, really, really shouldn't be doing?"

Again, he got a blank stare. And then. . .

"Ash, what are you on? Did you mistake those aspirin for, you know, something _else_?"

"No, but you might have!" He shouted suddenly out of frustration. "I mean, we slept together for Gods' sake! Don't you think you should be saying more than 'thanks,' and 'it was fun'?" He was on his feet before he knew it and a hand went through his raven locks, misplacing it all much worse than normal. "We're supposed to be best friends, Myst, but if all you're going to do is act like what we've built our relationship up to is a series of sexual flings, then. . ." He had finally realized that - not unlike him - her mouth was hanging wide open. ". . . What?"

"E - excuse me?" She sputtered, now caught between being pissed off with him and appalled at the accusations.

Wait; since when were they accusations?

"Y - you think that we. . . and then we. . . and that_ I. _. . ? Ash, if you don't come out with it now, I might kill you before we can fix this through the legal system."

"I was afraid of that." Ash said in the most honest tone he could muster which, really, was pretty damned honest, because he really had figured his life was over when he came out with everything. "I - it's okay if you enjoyed it, though; okay? I mean, if I could remember anything, I'm sure I would have, too. . . But - wait. . . did you take advantage of me?" He finished incredulously.

"W - what are you _talking _about?" Misty stated, now decidedly pissed off. "I would _never _- well, maybe - but not when it's this type of thing!"

"Then explain to me how I don't remember anything after supposedly losing that drinking contest last night, and you seem to have it down everything up through us falling asleep!" Oh, _there _was that stubborn streak of his.

"'Supposedly', huh Ash? I'll tell you how I know, because I - unlike some talentless trainer - can hold down my liquor, and I can remember everything because I happened to be the one to drag your sorry ass home last night after you'd collapsed at the booth! And you know what? It was the worst half-a-mile walk I'd ever done! You know why? Showtunes, Ash!"

"H - huh?" Wow, she'd lost him now, and his stubborn streak was gone again as she continued to bring to light exactly how it'd all happened. "What about 'em?"

"Half a mile with you, drunk as a batchelor with nothing to look forward to when he got home, and you sang them the entire way." She glared ominously at him. "I swear, I was about ready to rip my own ears off - either that or your tongue. Whichever my hands just happened to reach first - but you know what? I held back." Ash took a moment to gulp.

"Why?"

"Because you were drunk; drunk out of your mind. That's why, when you told me you'd been having hot monkey sex with Tracey in your dreams, I chose to ignore it. You were completely _out of it_."

"Well, of course I was. . . Wait, what did you just say?" He panicked again. Where the hell had monkey-sex-dreams come from?

"Okay, I was lying about that one, but. . . why the hell did you think we'd slept together; that I would stoop so low as to sleep with you?"

Ouch. There was a blow to his slightly inflated ego. (He chose to throw away the fact that the reason his ego had been slightly inflated to begin with was because Misty had considered him good in bed.)

"W - well. . ." Suddenly, he remembered the little prize - (Ack! Not a prize!) - he'd confiscated from his bedroom. "These were just. . . laying there. . . and so. . ." He removed his hand from his pocket, withdrawing her panties.

Misty had never before looked as red as she did in that moment, staring at Ash, who was holding her lingerie.

"G - give me those!" She shouted furiously, ripping them from his fingertips. (Apparently, he'd forgotten about that 'untouchable' rule again.) "S - so what? Just because you got your hands on my panties, you think it means I stripped for you? _This _is why I call you dense, Ash."

"But, c'mon, Myst! I'm not trying to make it all awkward here, but they were in my bedroom, on my floor, and I woke up with both of us half-naked, in the same bed! I can't help jumping to these kinds of conclusions!"

For once, she didn't reply right off the bat. In fact, when Ash gathered the courage to open his eyes and take a look at her, her expression seemed. . . contemplative. Wow; she was actually thinking about all of this?

"You're an idiot, Ash."

Oh, well, there went _that_ idea.

"You're an idiot, but you do have a point. However, it doesn't mean that any of your conclusions are right. Like I said, it was a half-a-mile walk to your house from the lab, and then I had to hold you while simultaneously opening the door, and then lock it back up and pull you upstairs to your bed. Naturally, by the time I got you to your bed, I was pretty tired. I don't think I meant to do it, but. . . I probably fell asleep beside you. I don't remember every detail, but I might have been thinking of just taking a five minute nap before moving to my room.

"Before I knew it, it was morning. As for these, here --" She took a moment to allow him another one second peek at her panties, "-- Do you remember seeing them when you got up at first?"

Ash thought about it. Sure, he hadn't been paying attention to everything that might have been laying around on his floor (as if the thought would have even crossed his mind after figuring Misty out to have been sleeping in the same bed as him), but looking back, on his way to the window to check outside for Misty at first, he definitely didn't remember tripping or stepping over anything.

"No, I guess not. . ."

"Don't sound so disappointed, Ash; after all, if it really _had _happened, I would have killed you already." And Misty smiled for the first time since the beginning of the conversation before turning slightly pink again (though nothing compared to before), "I got up after you and went to take a shower. I probably dropped these on accident when I went to take everything back to my room, and didn't notice."

"Oh." At least it made sense, and it didn't implicate him in assisted suicide. That was a nice feeling, there. "So then, everything's cool, right? I mean, we don't have to worry about it anymore, yeah?"

"Well, I mean, I _really _want to slap you right now for all the trouble and embarrassment you've caused, but other than that - yeah, sure; I guess so."

"Hm." At least she was holding back that urge.

And so the case of the undies and drunken sex was solved. Ash had to admit that he was very pleased to have survived through it. The only problem, however, was that Misty had gone back to acting as if nothing was different - at all. He was not - of course - going to ask for her to feel nothing but awkwardness (he was feeling enough of that for the both of them, not to mention his mother, the Professor, and possibly half a dozen of his neighbors). The main troublesome thing about it all is that she'd considered everything normal again just a bit too soon for his taste.

Again, he didn't want it to be so awkward, but that was it. He simply didn't know what he wanted. The thing was, he couldn't get over it. Honestly, he didn't want to have slept with her, thus it was a good thing he hadn't. But Misty had woken up alone (even if it was in his bed). His memory was clearly stained with the mental pictures of her skirt riding up along her shapely thighs, her snuggled against one of his pillows, and the slender arm as it laid across his chest.

He - we'll be clear here - was not attracted to Misty in any _way_. But that was just it - she was attractive, even if not to him, and it was taboo to think about things like he was, even if it was exactly how it'd happened.

So they spent the majority of their time in a silent battle against each other. Ash was only willing to say nothing to Misty, and Misty was only willing that Ash would give it up and try to speak with her normally again.

Finally, after thirty-six hours of it all, and two meals together spent with no communication and Ash willingly eating his vegetables, Misty knew she had to try and do something.

"Oh, come on!" She stated exasperatedly, and felt just a bit of truimph when Ash looked up at her. "You haven't said a thing to me since yesterday afternoon! I've been trying to be patient because I know that you're either really embarrassed or really disappointed (though I don't know why) about what happened, or didn't happen the other night. This isn't the way to deal with it, though. I mean, really, how are we supposed to live together if you're going to act like this?"

"W - well, it's not like we'll be living together for much longer anyway." It was just the perfect thing for him to say, right?

Misty gulped, but didn't show her own discouragement. It was just that, well, she thought they'd come pretty far, considering how rocky they'd started off with one another, but if he was going to push her away simply because the situation was temporary. . .

"I'm sorry you think about it like that, Ash. I, for one, think we've gotten along pretty well, you know? But if you're not in the mood to help yourself in this, then I won't be bothered either." She picked up her half-eaten plate of food, forgetting about any appetite she might have had before, and went to throw it out.

Ash's eyes, originally wide in disbelief that she'd throw away some perfectly good food, contemplated her words.

Misty walked into the living room, leaving him behind, and Ash, only a minute or so later, finished his thought process and did something he'd never done before. That is, he threw away his own plate of food (not finished), and followed after her.

"I'm sorry, but it's different for me than it is for you, okay? I guess I'm being stupid about it, but I saw. . . er. . . _things _that morning that won't leave me alone."

Misty chose to ignore his wording in this statement and just moved over a seat so that he could join her and, for the first time since the day before, he did so of his own accord. This was a good sign.

"Let's just try and get over that, then; huh?" She stated brightly, "I mean, I'm okay with everything! I think." She added.

"Yeah, but what do you want me to d - do. . . ?" Ash started to ask of her, just in time for a coy grin to grace her features.

"Ash; how do you feel about club-hopping? I say that. . . it's time we have some fun!" She turned her gaze on the sunbathing Pikachu, "What do you think, Pikapal? Ash _does _need to get out, doesn't he?"

Pikachu nodded her affirmation.

OoO

So that evening, after Ash and Misty had had their fill of vegetable-base, non-alcoholic dinner, they put on some of their best street clothes and walked into the main part of town, which was about a quarter-mile away.

Ash sported something not unlike what he wore under normal occasions; that was a black tee and jeans, although he'd added a pair of sunglasses and a beige-coloured gentleman's coat. It was casual, yet classy.

Misty, being a woman, had tried a bit harder, placing her long red hair in a low-hanging french braid that hung down her back, and then put together a red halter-top, black slacks, and heels. Along her wrist littered a few sterling silver embroideries.

They arrived at, "Stellar," a relatively high-classed club sporting alternative brands of music, real food, enjoyable company, and a "must be 21 years or older," limitation rule.

Good thing that didn't apply to them anymore.

Misty headed straight for the dance floor, being confident about her abilities, and Ash couldn't help but notice a few heads turn interestingly in her direction. She seemed to notice, too, since the next thing she did was crook her finger in their direction and call them all over.

But Misty wasn't the only one to attract a crowd. Ash found that wearing sunglasses indoors, while stupid, did attract attention, which he couldn't help but want by any girl except for Misty at this point. He took a seat by the bar and ordered a drink, wary of the memory from last time.

Soon, a young blonde woman joined him.

"Hi, cutie! You sure take your sweet time coming onto me, don't you? I've been waiting twenty minutes for you to talk to me."

"Oh, well then, if it makes you happy; 'hi.'" Ash said, and she smiled at him, taking the seat beside him, "Ash Ketchum," he held out a hand, "and what's your name?"

"Erina. Yea, I know it's a bit different, but it's thoughtful, right? I like it." She said after catching his quirked eyebrow.

"And why, Erina, were you waiting for me to talk to you? I mean, there's about fifty or more other guys here."

"Yea, but they don't act like you do."

"What?"

"They walk in here hoping to pick up every pair of C's they can find and end up straight in the middle of the dance floor, making fools of themselves. You - you didn't bother with it, just coming to sit here. I like that in a person; the subtlety to wait out however long it takes for something good to happen, and not jumping forward brashly into anything dangerous or hopeless."

Ash almost wanted to laugh and, with a glance in Misty's direction, he did for her sake. If Erina had known him better, she would have been able to see (like Misty always did) that he couldn't keep himself _out _of trouble. He couldn't help but consider why exactly he was there that very evening, as per example.

Unfortunately, Erina caught his chuckle and leant forward, talking over the music.

"And just what's so funny? I hope you aren't laughing at me."

"Er, no; no, of course not. I just. . . I'm not like what you think at all." And he turned to glance at Misty again, unable to hold back a blatant fit of laughter.

Erina noticed his gaze turn from her to the dance floor and she swivelled in her seat, catching sight of Misty, too. This time, she didn't join in with him, instead wondering why he would keep looking at the redhead who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself with at least three different guys.

"So, why are you looking at her?"

"Huh? Oh, she's - uh - my best friend." He nodded affirmatively, comfortable with that title in comparison to Misty at the moment. "She's actually the one who brought me here, saying I needed to catch my breath after - er - what happened a couple days ago." He alluded to the fact that the two of them had 'slept' together, knowing it wouldn't help.

"Huh." Apparently his allusion didn't help matters anyway. "But just what happened? It can't have been that great. I mean, look at her, flirting with all of those guys. You'd think she was trying to forget you were here."

"Well, that's the point, right? I mean, living together is stressful enough between two best friends who haven't seen each other in a long while, but sleeping together - well - that just takes all the cake - oops. . ." Erina didn't look happy at this confession.

"Mr. Ketchum, do you really think you should be sitting here when that girlfriend of yours that you failed to mention from the beginning is acting quite the handful with all those other men?" Her tone had turned dry and short very fast, and before Ash could try and lead her in a better direction of conversation, she'd lifted herself from the seat in a huff and stalked off.

That had been the first blow to his ego that evening. But there would be three more to come, as he continued to just sit there, not in the mood to try and dance with anyone, but most of all alone.

"So, I noticed you walk in with that redhead. Who's she to you?" A brunette asked curiously, but also with an odd sparkle in her eyes, as though she was looking for a certain answer to the question.

"Oh, she's just my friend. Not my best friend, of course; we're just living together for a couple weeks so that. . ." And that was about as far as he got before the second girl got up and stalked away from him.

By the time the third one had shown up, he'd already begun drinking into his fourth glass of bourbon on the rocks and had not even noticed he was saying idiotic things and making a fool of himself; he didn't care much to begin with.

The fourth girl, who seemed to want to sleep with him whether he was sober or not, was interrupted by Misty's first appearance at the bar since they'd arrived. Her face was highly flushed and she looked overwhelmingly excited.

"I'll take an Apple-tini." She told the bartender, who nodded and turned away to gather the materials. "Oh! No ice!" She shouted after him as though she'd forgotten just what she'd liked to drink. Whatever she was excited about must really have been something, "Hey, Ash! I haven't seen you out there dancing with anyone yet! Don't you remember why we're here? It's not just to drink ourselves silly like last time; remember, I won't be dragging you home this time around, after you're incapacitated." She wagged a finger annoyingly in his face and he stuck his nose a little higher up in the air out of dignity.

"I - I don't need to hear that! I'm having a bad enough night as it is!"

"Wha-? Why? I mean, I'm doing great! I didn't know so many guys would want to sleep with me!" She said in a tone that said, 'it's nice, but we both know they're getting nothing until it's worth it for me.'

"Great, huh? Well, that's nice, but unlike you, I've got no one who wants to. . ."

"B - but I swear I saw at least two girls over here with you. What the hell did you do to chase them away. . . ?" She asked incredulously.

"I - I didn't do anything; I mean it! Th - they just flip everytime they ask me about you and I mention that we're friends who are living together. . ."

"Ash," she started after hearing this, sighing exasperatedly. "Remember how I told you you were an idiot?" As he nodded, she continued into her ever-convincing argument. "Well, you've proven it time and time again, and I'm just talking about tonight! Listen," he'd turned away from her at the sound of her taunt, but her newly rejuvenated, honest tone got his attention. "No girl really wants to hear about your relationships with other girls that are special to you, especially if they're interested in you and all you've really told them is that another girl is your temporary roommate." She tapped the counter impatiently, hoping he'd catch on without more of her help on the subject, "Girls have a language all their own, which I'm sure Brock has tried and failed to teach you. We want to be special even if for a moment to the guy we're trying to meet eyes with. You telling every girl who comes onto you that you're living with me. . . ? It's just cause for aggravation and unnecessary competition; it's the type of thing must of us aren't in the mood for.

"Get it?" She finished, just in time for her beverage to appear in front of her. She thanked the bartender and laid a ten down on the counter, then faced him again.

Ash nodded at this point, coming to terms with the fact that Misty seemed to know so much more about these things than he did. Then again, he supposed that - on some level he couldn't quite reach - she, too, was a girl.

"Hey, thanks for the information, Myst! I mean, sure, you could have told me this a bit sooner, so that I could have. . ." She was glaring at him. Ouch. He decided not to go any further into that statement, lest she be pissed off and indignant against his objectives. ". . . Anyway, thanks. But it's good to see you're having a nice time, too? How many hearts are you breaking?" He asked, turning his eyes on the floor where a lot of singles and couples were dancing.

"Oh, none." She replied coyly. "You see, Ash, I'm a very open-minded person, and someone who's willing to give almost anyone interesting a try. So. . ." And she removed a napkin from the place between her breasts, considering she didn't have any pockets, holding it up a second later for him to see, too. "Let's see, there's John, and Derek, and - oh! - Zander and I have a date tomorrow! And these are numbers for Duke, Matthis, and Paul." She was grinning very widely at the thought of all the information she'd acquired over the past hour and a half, and Ash could only think of one thing to say to it all.

". . . Mwah!" He wailed, depressed.

OoOoO

**Notes** - I decided not to label things with numbers this time. It takes too long to research them all again and place specific notes, and since it's been way over a year since my last update (please cheer, rather than throw things at me), I thought I'd just do it this way.

Okay, so I'm ever-so sorry about the length in time since I last posted a chapter. I mean, I tried to get started on this awhile back, but I just wasn't inspired enough to write it all out the way I wanted it to go. Then, last night, when I should have been sleeping (considering I have to wake up at 5:30 a.m. on Saturdays and Sundays), I just started in on it, and devoured about three-quarters of it in the one sitting. I'm so proud of me. I hope you are, too.

Anyway, be happy because the next chapter(s) are ones that I've been looking forward to since the beginning of the fic. It's - let's call it - the turning point in Ash and Misty's relationship. Well, the first _biiiiig _one, anyway. There are a couple, I'll admit.

Next, I want to address a comment someone made about lack of updates; I can't remember what story I found the review on or who it was from, but the reviewer basically canned me for not spending my weekends typing up everything I need to type up. Perhaps I wasn't clear when I commented on my lack of time to everyone; I am now in school four days a week (Mon. - Thurs.) and am working 21 hours at my job on the _weekend_. I work eleven hours Saturday and ten hours Sunday; not to mention that - once Fall semester starts up - I'll be cutting back my school hours and getting another job. I will try harder (I've been working on "Illicit Saints" lately, too) but promises - while not meant to be broken - can't be proven one-hundred percent, either, can they?

Please R&R anyway, though; it helps my poor, deflated ego. (The ego-thing is my own fault, but positive reinforcements make me better!)

**Spoiler** - With Drew out of town, May comes to spend the night at Ash's house after one of the groups' bi-weekly meetings. After some girl-time between May and Misty, they walk in on Ash, who's trying to deter Misty's sisters from their own chipper personalities. After Misty gets on with them, they turn all tables on her; she's been there for almost a month, and they think that she's healthy enough to return to the Gym. But Misty, while thinking that maybe she _has _worn her welcome out a bit, doesn't want to leave. And now it's all up to Ash to talk her into standing up against her sisters once and for all. Will she give up and go home? Or. . . (Part one of two. I think. Lol.)


	6. We Make It Count

**Author** - Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer** - I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes** - I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

**OoOoO**

**Pokemon** - "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Six** - "We Make It Count"

Fic Facts:

**Summary** - Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating** - Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters / Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August** of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **March** of **2006**.

This chapter was officially created **August 9th **through **September 7th, 2007**.

**OoOoO**

Ash and Misty couldn't help staring at the confounded expressions on May's and Brock's faces. It was obvious that neither of them believed it, which was sad - even though, had the first two heard of it a few days beforehand, they probably wouldn't have believed it either.

"So. . . you're saying that you two are actually getting along right now?" May questioned, pointing at the two one at a time.

"And - let me be sure - any domestic disputes or aggravated assaults. . . they've been resolved without cause for calling the authorities?" Brock continued, his small mug halfway to his mouth. But he seemed to have forgotten about it.

"Give us some credit, guys; I mean, we've been living together for almost a month." Ash said halfheartedly, exhausted from having to verify his and Misty's living situation so many times. It was at his statement, however, that Misty turned slightly stiff.

"What the hell did you do to break the ice? Sleep together?" The breeder couldn't help continuing to prod at them and it took Ash and Misty a few more seconds than necessary to realize he was joking. They were sure, even if just for a moment, that he knew - that he'd somehow found everything out.

Given, now the both of them knew the truth about that situation a few days back, and the effects it had had on them, and both were grateful. Ash had gone home sad and dateless, but pleased at the fact that his best friends' half-revealed cleavage wasn't on his mind anymore, and Misty had gotten phone numbers for up to eight or so different guys. This was a good thing, considering she and Zander had gone out the evening before, and it had not worked out well.

At all.

As in insults like, "Why couldn't you wear something sexier," followed by something like, "Why couldn't you try and fit your brain somewhere in all that empty, pigheaded mess?" Flying. Everywhere. Back and forth.

"What are you talking about? Me? Sleep with him? Brock, give us some credit." Misty said confidently, giving Ash a glance that told him he'd better not join her in this - too much denial and everything would be thrown out into the open, and that was something the two of them knew they'd regret for the rest of their lives.

"Well, that's good, then. After all, there're plenty of other ways to do it." May's statement finished in such a way that _both _Ash and Misty stiffened even more. "Anyway. . . I'm happy for you guys. I definitely didn't want to come over their tonight just to spend my time listening to you two throw insults and play mediator."

"Oh, that's right. . . You're staying over." Ash replied to that, acting as though he'd forgotten. "Is it really because you're scared in your apartment alone without Drew there to protect you?" He afforded the chance to laugh at the thought.

"N - no!" May scoffed, but was unable to lie flawlessly. "It's just. . . lonely when I'm there without him. You of all people should know what that feels like, Ash. I still remember how you whined constantly when Brock and I saw you, all because it was only you and your Pokemon and no one ever visited you there, etc., etc."

Ash hated to think of how he couldn't pull together a comeback for that one.

"Well, getting slightly back on topic," Misty cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the fact that Ash and May were staring so intensely while she and Brock just sat there in the background, "I think this will be fun. After all, it gives May and I a chance to hang out for a bit before we head back, do some shopping, get our nails done. . ."

". . . Eat some of that horrible wheat-grass-salad, check out the cute guys at the theater, perm our hair. . ." Ash mocked, and pretended to flip a strand of his own past his shoulder. "Please; grow up, Myst."

"Oh, I'm very grown up, in the sense that I can actually get guys to want to hold up a conversation with me. Er, recent events aside. . ." She added last minute, just in case her roommate tried to force her to admit to it. She really wasn't in the mood to throw her personal life (as crappy as it was) into the ring.

"You guys haven't changed much after all, have you?" Brock asked uneasily. "I think we'd better pick up the check and get out of here before you both get us _kicked _out and we can't ever come back." He stated honestly before Ash could open his mouth to retaliate with a half-formed insult.

"Right, right; er, it's my turn, isn't it?" Ash asked, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet. Misty's gaze, formerly wide and serious and battle-ready, seemed to turn sound and quiet. She was staring at his wallet, which was empty of cash.

"I guess I'll have to go credit, then." Ash laughed, pulling out a Visa card.

Misty couldn't help but realise at this entirely inconvenient time that she had _never _been asked or required to pay for one of their get-togethers. It just added to that stupid list that was growing tirelessly in the back of her mind.

It was past her due date to return home. She was surprised her sisters hadn't already called about it, but then again, they might have gotten caught up in their dates and appointments, and therefore, may not have noticed the day.

But. . . Ash was bound to. After all, as per current example, she was just another one of the added expenses he had to care for. She hated thinking about the fact that she couldn't contribute more. Up until a week or so ago, she'd had absolutely no choice, but. . . she could easily run out and get a job now. . . Had she gotten lazy? No; it was more like she hadn't thought about it - hadn't seen for herself just how much time was passing.

Until now. Until Ash had reminded everyone there just how long it'd been. Was he trying to push something, say something to her to edge her along? Could she blame him?

No, not really. After all, Misty was a reasonable person; most of the time. She knew that she was barely helping out with the housework. (You never really needed to when your roommate was a slob and wouldn't care anyway, and one of your other friends was a makeshift nanny.) And on top of that, she was sure her cooking had almost killed him twice, and her feminine products in the bathroom had freaked him out on more than one occasion. Not to mention how she acted around him; a bit aggressive and loud and disrespectful considering what he'd done for her recently.

Perhaps it was time to go. Better now than later when she could have had even more time to grow attached to this lifestyle that she had acquired. Better now, when it was hopefully going to hurt less, and before Ash had the chance to open up enough to push her in that direction anyway. . .

The check was paid and Ash was heading towards the city gate leading to Pallet Town. It was less than a one mile walk between the two cities so he rarely ever thought about dealing with public transportation. Plus, he always made sure to carry at least one Pokeball with him, because one of his Pokemon at current level could handle about one hundred between Viridian and Pallet. Or so he said.

Brock followed his normal trend and walked briskly towards the Viridian PokeMart, apparently because there was this new girl who had started working there the last time he'd come around, and she had been. . . well. . . let's just say _very _attractive.

This left Misty and May, who had told Ash they were going to take this rare opportunity to spend time together and window-shop alongside Viridian's strip malls. During this, they also had a chance to talk about things; living accomodations, likes, dislikes, guys. . .

"So, you said you had a date with someone a few days ago. How'd it go?" May asked cautiously, mostly because, seeing as Misty hadn't brought it up in the cafe, she probably wasn't in the mood to talk about it.

"You want me to be honest?" The redhead waited for her friend's nod. "Take the worst date you've ever had and multiply it by ten. This was worse than going out with. . . with _Ash_. . . and finding out he hadn't understood it to be a date to begin with!"

"Ouch; nice example." May said, refusing to comment further. "I don't get it, though; female intuition usually tells us when guys will turn out to be jackasses. Why didn't yours go off?"

Misty took a moment to glance through a windowpane, her eyes boring holes into the sale sign beside a summer blouse, cashmere, and hoping that her glare would knock the pricetag down a hundred dollars or so.

". . . I don't know, now that I think about it. I'm usually good at being able to tell when things are going to go south, but. . . maybe I was just so desparate for a way out, I was willing to try anything without listening to my own reason."

"A way out? Of what?"

"It's. . ." Misty sighed; she hadn't wanted to talk about this either. "A way out of feeling guilty in a whole. I've been living with Ash for almost a month now. I was only supposed to be there for about two weeks. He won't say anything - he hasn't yet, at least - because he's a good guy, but. . . I'm sure I'm working his credit cards to the bone."

"Misty. . . you've been thinking about this. For how long?" May said, wanting to give the leather handbag she had just walked past another glance before quickly turning back, not wanting to seem insensitive to Misty's problem.

"Really, I didn't think much about it until today; which makes me feel even worse." There was a sigh. "It's probably been there, sure, just sitting in the back of my mind, but. . . I'll be blunt; _I don't want to give this up_."

There was silence as she and May just stared at each other. Passerby's glanced at the two women in curiosity as they walked past, but didn't brood on their stopping the foot traffic.

"Why's that?"

"It's not because it's so easy, I'll tell you that right now. But. . . you guys have been the most important part of my life for so long; it killed me enough to leave Ash behind the first time, right here at the Viridian City PokeCenter," Misty commented with a nod towards the building they happened to be walking past at the time, "but then, later on. . . I was never able to catch up with him, or Brock, and I didn't get a chance to know you nearly as much as I'd wanted to. I'm not saying that I don't care for my sisters but. . . I can't help but hope that their situation as it's been for the past few weeks - having to deal with life without me there to pay their bail - will hold to them like a shadow. I want them to grow up so badly so that I can finally leave and enjoy a life that I want and not feel guilty about doing it."

"You shouldn't ever feel guilty about it, Misty. Daisy, Violet, and Lily. . . got themselves into whatever messes they've been in and - think about it this way - _it's never been fair to you _that they could treat you like a 'get-out-of-jail-free card.'"

Misty, who'd been staring at the sidewalk, looked up with a bitter grin on her face.

"I just wish they could realize that." She scuffed her shoe before the two of them finally continued on their way, and she attempted to make the conversation less personal by glancing through store windows and pretending to be interested in the items she saw there. "I've missed you all so much. And now I'm finally getting a chance to see you and get to know you and be friends with you again. Why should I have to let that go just to slave over my sisters' mistakes and my two jobs?

"Am I selfish for considering it all to be this way? Should I think of myself as a horrible person for seeing this sort of life as a type of life I could realistically live if I weren't stuck in Cerulean Gym paying off debts that aren't even my own?"

"Not. . . at all." May's reply was said slowly and clearly in hopes that Misty would see just how honest she was trying to be.

Misty didn't say anything else, maybe because she was trying to convince herself that May was telling the truth, and the two young women continued down the strip mall extravaganza for the next hour or so.

As the sun started to set, they turned towards Viridian City's main gate, which would lead them into the grass plains on the way to Pallet Town.

"You brought your Pokemon with you, right? Because I left all of mine in Cerulean so Daisy and the others wouldn't compain as much about having absolutely no backup." The redhead asked, walking cautiously away from the path.

"Don't worry; Delcatty is right here," May pointed at a small round-shaped clasp set into the bracelet on her left wrist, "and if there's need for more, I have Combuskin in my pocket. Those bug Pokemon won't know what hit them if they try to tangle with my fire."

"Oh." There was a sigh of exasperated ease, "Good." Misty finally let loose a bit of the stress and walked slightly more freely.

As confident she was in her friends' Pokemon, however, the darker it got, the more edgy Misty became. At one point, a Rattata happened to scurry right in front of her and leap into the brush on the other side of the two girls, and she almost fell backwards.

It would have been different had she had one of her own Pokemon with her; she knew for sure what they were capable of, and having a security measure in her own hands was much more reliable than hoping that May's reflexes were as swift as she needed them to be. But May laughed at least once as she trampled hurriedly through the wood, growing more and more regrettable with the fact that the two of them had chosen to stay behind in Viridian after Ash had gone back home. . .

. . . It was that thought that made others start to cross her mind. What if Ash had been caught up in something and had been attacked from behind by any one of the number of Pokemon here? Even worse, what if she and May were attacked and Ash had to come scrambling back to them after waiting hours for them to show up, just so that he could save them? She would be even more of a burden, then.

Misty's thoughts were tumbling so far south that she'd seemed to have forgotten they were on the outskirts of Pallet already, where rarely any Pokemon ventured without good reason.

However, it was night out, and those very same Pokemon would probably be feeling less challenged by the appearance of any people (after all, not many trainers continued to walk through the forest during the night, and not many adults had to be put to that).

It was then that she heard it; a crack that wrent through the evening air, and she breathed deep in horror, already accusing the trees around her for hiding the enemy. Because, apparently, there was a designated enemy taking its sweet time in maiming her alive.

And, freaked out and noticing that May hadn't raised her Pokeball (even though she knew for a fact that something out there was trying to kill her), Misty took off for Ash's house with a scream. It took two extra seconds for the younger woman to follow slightly behind her.

Misty trampled through the front door and flung it closed behind her, starting on the locks just in time to hear a hollow knock from the other side.

"Misty." May said clearly and exasperatedly, "Let me in. Now."

"Oh, right." She tried to laugh as she reversed her actions, but it came out fake and shallow as she stared at her friends' aggravated expression.

"I hope that this isn't what you've been like for the past _month_." May pointed out.

Shuffling her feet and relocking the door, the redhead replied, "No. For some reason I'm feeling particularly paranoid tonight."

"So paranoid that you think something's trying to kill you?" The older woman nodded bashfully and May couldn't help but glare, "Oh, well, in that case, _thanks _for leaving me out there with whatever you think is stalking you."

Misty stiffened. She hadn't thought about that.

"You know, you ran from a twig," May said in a tone that stated she thought Misty should see her doctor as soon as possible and holding the offending piece of nature up for inspection before opening the door and throwing it out on the lawn.

Misty opened her mouth to apologize, but was cut off by a bout of shouting that she hadn't been paying attention to beforehand. It was Ash. He was yelling, but. . . he wasn't the only one.

"Like, let us talk to our little sister, you Pikachu-obsessed bachelor!" Lily's highly urked tone escaladed, and Ash's reply matched her one hundred percent.

"I've told you twice now; she's not here, I'm not trying to save her from your cornering, and I don't want to take any messages because they'll be lost in transition!"

"Ash, listen. . ." It was Daisy's turn, and she sounded more reasonable as she shoved her young sister off-screen. "I'm sure you're not lying for her because you know she'd kill you for trying to shirk off her responsibilities. But the fact is, it's been awhile now, and we have a lot to tell her anyway, so -- forget the long, extensive message that I'm sure Violet was trying to pass you a little while ago. Can you just tell her to call us so we can discuss what's going on?"

"See?" Ash stated pointedly to the other girls who were inching their faces back into view, "That type of thing I could handle!"

". . . Ash, what's going on?" He almost rejoiced to hear Misty's voice from behind him, "Those are my sisters, right?"

Ash turned and nodded hurriedly, running away from the phone and leaving behind three very angry and disbelieving relatives for a few moments.

"Yea, and it's a good thing you got here when you did, because I think they were trying to blow my brains out with their crazy issues and favors and messages and--"

"--Ash, just leave it to me. You go hang out with May in another room, put dinner together or something."

"I am so okay with that." Her best friend replied without a second glance at his phone, then he power-walked through the archway leading into the kitchen, dragging May with him.

". . . What do you guys need?" Misty asked softly, fearing what she knew to be coming. Unfortunately, her sisters chose to make her wait it out, and Daisy attempted to make polite conversation beforehand.

"We - well, firstly - we wanted to know how it's been going." The oldest Cerulean sister begrudgingly nudged the others with her elbows in order to get them to agree with her suggestion. "I mean, it's been awhile, right? How are you doing, catching up with everyone?"

"Oh; it's been. . . okay. Living with Ash is a danger in itself, but we've managed to make it work. And seeing my friends more often. . . means a lot to me. This experience was worth the trouble I had to go through to be forced here. I didn't think it would be, but. . . I guess I never really realized how much I missed it all."

"That's nice, little sister; I was hoping you'd enjoy it. I know you've been needing something like this forever. And you finally got something that you wanted." Daisy smiled, honestly happy for her youngest sibling before Violet broke the little reunion.

"Good, you caught up, right? You've seen everyone and thing that you've been wanting to, and I'm sure you're - like - probably tired of it all by now." She shrugged as though believing herself. "And that means that it's time to come home, right?"

Misty knew it had been coming; she'd known for awhile, of course, but it had been even more obvious since walking through the front door and hearing their voices. She'd been dreading this moment ever since it'd hit her. And she now had no excuse to avoid it.

". . . To come home." She whispered in disappointment. She'd wanted it to last, unbeknownst to them and in disregard to their positions. She was indeed selfish for hoping that they'd never realize that the time had come and gone for her to leave everything she'd gained back behind.

"Yea; after all, it's only gotten harder to take care of everything since you haven't been here to do the paperwork. You know that we're - like, totally - no good at it." Lily chimed in, with another shrug. "And you've never been the type to ignore life, so you know what you have to do, right?" She didn't wait for a reply before finishing the statement she was trying to make, "Good. This was easier than we thought it'd be, then." And she and Violet walked away, leaving only the oldest and youngest Waterflowers on the line.

"I'm sorry; I tried to hold them off as long as I could, but you know they're probably worse than you are - in the headstrong category, I mean." Daisy said, acknowledging Misty's position, wilted against the monitor.

". . . No; it's not wrong for them to be thinking the way they are. _I'm _sorry." There was a sad smile on her face as she finally looked up and squinted at her sister. "I was okay with ignoring the deadline, so I know it's my fault that you had to go through so much trouble to keep them away."

"Like sharks, aren't they?" Daisy joked before turning serious, "Look, Misty, it wasn't just them. In the end, I - like - totally agreed. We need you back; we've _been _needing you, but I just hoped that it would all turn out okay before long, and I suppose, like you, I hoped they wouldn't notice. But the bills are piling up again and Lily was sick last week and couldn't work her extra hours, not to mention I'm still not the best Gym Trainer. I'm no laughingstock, but I'm not you, either. You were always the best at this, you know. . . It's because you've always been so - like - determined to keep our reputation up. Unfortunately, it's your best and worst trait; it just adds to your stubborn personality. We need that type of thing to keep us going strong."

Misty supposed that was Daisy's way of trying to make it all better. She supposed that that was Daisy's way of further apologizing on all of their behalfs. And as she hung up, she supposed it was Daisy's way of saying that this was the reason she - Misty - was so important to their family; this was why they so needed her back.

Sitting there in front of the video-phone, Misty did not cry. She didn't frown or throw a fit or scream in an attempt to gain the attention of her friends in the other room. She just sat there and tried to convince herself that leaving was the best thing she'd be doing; for everyone.

The facts were, Ash probably didn't make enough income to support them both longterm, her sisters couldn't help their expenses and - therefore - needed her job to help support _them_, and she was a burden while in the position she sat currently.

That was just how it was and she had no reason to deny it.

"I'm sorry," she said under her breath as she reached her feet again and wandered through the archway, too, into the kitchen. She was not saying so for Ash or her sisters, though; no, this apology was only for herself. And she felt a bit better because of it as she tried to ignore the stares she was getting from Ash and May as she helped to set the table for them all.

All through dinner, Ash continued to glance curiously at her, and May ate in complete silence, not wanting to disturb whatever it all was so that she could prod her friend about the discussion she'd had with her sisters. Misty guessed that, to a degree, May had come to see what it was about anyway, but she was grateful for the quiet rather than the possible inquiries, because she wasn't in the mood to talk about it all just yet.

"So, anyway. . . how was Viridian?" Ash asked cautiously, feeling as though he was stepping into troublesome territory before following it up with taking a bite of the garden salad May had forced him to make.

"It was fine. We had fun." Misty said simply before May could come up with anything. The older woman was hoping that by conversing even just a little, she could avoid any more inconveniences.

"So, what did you guys do?"

"Window shop."

"Oh." Ash figured as much. Misty didn't have any spending money to begin with, and he knew for a fact that May would deem it unfair if she bought all of the stuff she wanted for herself while her friend could only watch. "Well, what about. . . when you got back? Your sisters --"

"-- Ash, I'd like some more salad. Could you hand me the bowl?"

"-- May, in case you haven't noticed. . . it's sitting there right in front of you." Ash said, stretching his arm towards it and failing to grasp it in his hand, hoping to prove a point.

"Uhm, yea, but. . . I still need the dressing! C - can you hand me the reduced fat French in the fridge?" She asked distractingly.

Misty gave her friend a small smile in thanks as Ash sighed and got up. She took the opportunity and followed, placing the dish in the sink, finishing her drink, and doing the same with her glass. As Ash turned to face the table again, she edged towards the open doorway into the living room and took a glance at the staircase.

"So, yea, I'm done. I'll see you guys tomorrow morning." She smiled as wide as she could, trying not to look too fake, and took off.

Ash placed the bottle of French dressing in front of May and stared at the place where his best friend had just been standing. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that something had been upsetting her. At the same time, he suddenly came to the conclusion that she maybe didn't want to tell him anything about it.

**OoO**

Ash was no superhero. Misty - of all people - knew of the many great and brilliant feats he'd completed during his years as a trainer, even if he'd only stumbled through at least half of them. But he was still no savior of the world and, unfortunately, it seemed to be the one thing she needed him to be.

She wasn't saying that she wanted him to romance her, sweep her off her feet, give her the best reason in the world to stay; it wasn't his job to do so. But she did - and here she was being brutally honest with herself about it - want him to tell her that he knew what a predicament she was in, that he didn't care, that he wanted her to stay with him because she mattered that much. She wanted her happiness to matter to someone except herself, and that was something she didn't think her sisters were capable of.

But Ash; she knew he knew what her family was going through. After all, he'd been there years ago when they'd informed her in Virdian City that she needed to come home so that they could abandon the Gym and go on that cruise around the world. He knew what they were like.

"So save me," she muttered aggressively, hoping that someone would. She looked around the room - Ash's old bedroom, the one he'd so kindly leant to her so that she wouldn't have to spend two weeks sleeping on a couch - and noticed her many nik-naks laying around. It was like she lived here; really lived here.

Why did all good things have to come to an end?

Misty had believed for so long that it would all work out. Apparently that thought process had rubbed off on Daisy, too, and now they were both to be left disappointed. She was going to be stuck living a life she could barely stand forever, and Daisy was going to be stuck as the only one of her sisters who really seemed to care enough to consider her, even if she couldn't do anything.

But it was something Misty hated to admit; that her hopes for everything turning out perfect for her in the end seemed to falter at that - just a simple hope that she couldn't do anything to make become a reality.

When she'd first started thinking such dreamlike thoughts, she had never considered how hard it would be to make it all work.

Whatever happened to karma? Because she _really _needed it right now.

Without even realizing it, Misty noticed that her eyes had trained on the sliding-door closet. In there - among her hanging clothes, jacket, and extra items - were her suitcases. Her mind was telling her that she might as well get a start on packing now because - unlike the world or any Pokemon rarities - she doubted she was worth saving.

**OoOoO**

**Notes** - Okay, first guys, I want to apologize because I know for a fact that this chapter is about three thousand words shorter than my others. . . but I couldn't help it. First of all, I'd always envisioned the end of the chapter being like this and secondly, well, it's a birthday present for myself. Yeah, that's right; darling authoress's birthday is tomorrow (September 8th). So you want to know what the greatest present in the world could be?

Take a wild guess by posting a loving review full of positive criticism and lack of disbelief at the way I had Misty acting throughout the chapter! (Sorry; I had to say that.)

Anyway, I'm hoping (like Misty) that you guys liked te mix of humor and drama (and whatever else I included) enough to overlook all that because positive reinforcements make me feel loads better. Plus, it'll probably make me feel like updating faster. (Hint, hint.)

So, because I feel like posting this chapter now (out of excitement of updating before another year has come and gone), I'm just going to skip straight to the spoiler. This means that if you have any questions about things (other than a certain character's paranoia), ask them in your review and I'll reply back personally with an answer; because I just have oodles and oodles of time on my hands. (-is lying-)

**Spoiler** - (Two / two part special.) Misty doesn't think she can rely on Ash to bail her out the way her sisters have always relied on her, but maybe she's taking his position as her best friend too lightly? After all is said and done, she also returns (once again) to the dating world, seeking out another of the men who's phone numbers she got while out clubbing that one evening, and it seems that this one is here to last. . .


	7. The Little Things You Do, and the Big

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes **- I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Seven **- "The Little Things You Do, and the Big. . ."

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **March **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially started **August 9th, 2007.**

**OoOoO**

Once upon a time, there was a young woman - one of four - who was taken advantage of by her sisters. Once upon a time, this young woman was a young girl with dreams and aspirations that she wanted so clearly to complete. Once upon a time, this young girl had a best friend - someone deemed a hero in so many ways - who meant more than the world to her, as all best friends do. And once upon a time, this young girl who had a best friend became a young woman with three older sisters who couldn't handle their own world; as such, this young woman lost contact with those dreams and aspirations she'd had as a young girl growing up. Finally, once upon that same time, the young woman lost contact - also - with that best friend of hers, and only every once in awhile was she able to take some time and wonder what had become of him, and what heroic things he was doing now.

The plot-twist started, again, once upon that same time, when the stress of living half of those three older sisters' lives became too much on the young woman and she was told to go away. Luckily, this woman still had a best friend, and this best friend - who had, once upon a time, been a young boy - accepted her into his home; the woman who had - once upon a time - been a young girl.

The end of the story as it should have been, and as the young woman had known of since the beginning, was that she would return home to her three sisters and that oh - so stressful life, and she would - once upon a time - deal with it all.

. . . And that was the end; right?

Fairytales always had happy endings. They always started with a, "once upon a time," and they always ended with a, "happy ever after." That, crippled with the fact that Misty couldn't help but read every generic romance novel she got her hands on, was probably the reason she had always hoped to live that type of fairytale herself.

Of course, fairytales were for children (as her sisters often tried to make her believe) and happy endings were only for stories that those children read, because they were gullible enough to believe that the world always turned out that way.

Now Misty lay in the bed that her best friend, Ash, had provided for her over the past month or so, and she faced that particular fork in the road that those whimsical tales often alluded to. A difficult position filled with both difficult and hopeful, "happy ever after," decisions.

She should go home. She should realize that this, while wonderful and refreshing, was not a permanent fix and she had hopeless sisters to tend to and bills to help pay.

She should stay. She should do something for her and teach her sisters that lesson that they'd always needed to learn - that being that they had to take care of themselves and their own mistakes.

She should ask Ash for his opinion, knowing the worst that can happen. Ash could tell her he wasn't in a fit position to care for her, and it would take too long to relocate her here and expect her to find a job in time before _his _bills started piling up; or. . .

. . . He could say that while it was a bit of a rush at first, the lifestyle he had come to wake up to and expect had been the one that included her. Therefore, he didn't want her to leave.

None of those (even the last and least likely one) were as whimsical as some of the stories she'd read through and through, but they were the only possibilities.

And now, Misty couldn't sleep. For the life of her, she couldn't reason with herself to face against her sisters and tell them, "no," or to face Ash and ask him to let her stay. She would have been lying if she said it was only because she didn't want to return home.

To her, his telling her she couldn't stay would be the same as him rejecting her; it would be that same feeling of dread and disregard she'd felt when just a fourteen year old girl being told that her bike was fixed, her sisters were leaving her with a huge responsibility, and she had better reason to go home than to stay. Because, while Ash probably didn't know what he'd been saying at the time, that was what had been heard.

Just like when Ash had told her that he could only believe he had met her on his first day away from home because he was meant to do so - because they were meant to be best friends. . . the words that crossed her were that she was that much more important to him because it was her and because they'd learned to know each other so well.

Misty had always wondered where she would have been if she _hadn't _met Ash that day. Or, rather, she had until the day she left. Would she have been home, taking care of the same things she did now because she had ended up not able to take care of herself on the road? Or how about facing off against other trainers with the same dreams she'd used to have in order to gain that title she'd always wanted? Maybe she could have even been working alongside someone like Lorelei or following another career path, such as becoming a nursing major for Pokemon. . .

But that day, she had seen a certain light, that being Ash's words about how he knew it was her he was supposed to meet and become best friends with, and she never felt she had to doubt her relationship with him again.

But that, too, was years ago. . . before she'd had to leave everything behind and grow up. And when she'd finally returned, unfortunately, she'd been left with the awkward emptiness from the shallow leftovers of her friendships as a child.

She'd been left with the hollow feelings of someone who had been abandoned, or who had abandoned someone else. Her hopes that things would just be. . . normal. . . after so much time made absolutely no sense, she could see now. She owed her friends from so long ago a lot already. And now. . . she had no right to ask anything of them - of Ash - but she simply couldn't help. . . wanting the best thing to happen to her.

The sun rose without her knowledge and she blinked and stared at the white plastered wall in front of her for ten minutes before realizing that she could see it so clearly in the morning light. She could suddenly hear things, muffled footsteps coming from under the doorway and a couple voices on the stairwell. Ash and May were up already.

She didn't want to have anything else to do with them, though. Misty knew that if she went downstairs and acted as though nothing were wrong, as if nothing were expected of her, then she would just become more and more attached to this lifestyle she couldn't have. . . up until the time she'd be forced to leave it behind. Again.

She threw the covers away from her and choked on air before jumping to her feet. She needed to get ready to go.

Rampaging through the closet, she found the suitcases stacked neatly in the back. She'd brought a lot of things with her; and now she had to replace them all for her long trip back.

Given, she didn't necessarily have to go back to Cerulean today - it was such short notice that the Houndoom bus ticket would be twice as expensive. But even so. . . she just didn't want to wait.

She dragged the first bag over to the dresser and pulled at the zipper. Tipping all of her hair and make-up products into the main pouch, she tried to ignore the feeling that said she was moving so quickly she wasn't giving herself a chance to think realistically. She ignored that part of her because she was sure it was the same part still praying for a fairytale.

Next she moved onto the closet full of blouses and the two dresses she'd brought with her. Both had been ironed out after usage at the homewarming and anniversary parties. Looking back now, the homewarming had obviously been a waste; Ash had been right. She wasn't going to be there long, so what was the point of bringing so much; of taking the opportunity to introduce her to all the neighbors? She wasn't sticking around anyway. And she wasn't going to be a part of his life again forever.

Suddenly feeling a burst of anger she didn't want to explain away, Misty tossed the dresses into the nearest case and shoved them as deep and flat as they'd go. Nothing deserved to look nice anymore. Nothing needed paid attention to. It just wasn't worth it.

She stomped back to the dresser and opened the first drawer, pulling all of her nightshirts and things out and dumping them roughly into another case. She slammed that drawer and moved onto the next one. And the next one. And the next--

--There was a sudden knock at her door.

Not bothering to brace herself for whoever might be there or what she'd say to how she'd been making so much noise and why she was putting her things away, she shouted for them to come in.

". . . Misty? What's going on? Ash and I heard a lot of pounding from the kitchen. . ." May said, entering the room and closing the door softly behind her. After all the attention Misty had been drawing to herself, it probably wouldn't have done much good anyway. "H - hey, what's happening? Why are you. . . Are you crying?"

Was she? Misty immediately dropped the two sweaters she'd just removed from the fourth drawer of her dresser and felt at her cheeks. Sure enough, they were wet and she felt that tingling, ticklish feeling as a few more tears trickled down towards her chin.

"I. . . I guess so." She knew it was a sore loss, this place and her regrown relationships with her friends, but she didn't think she'd miss it so badly that she would start crying. "I. . . didn't know. Sorry about the noise; I'm okay." She said distractedly, picking the clothes back up from the floor and placing them more neatly than the rest into the suitcase she happened to be filling.

"Why. . . are you packing?" May asked, deciding that Misty wouldn't explain about her crying on her own, but not wanting to abandon the older woman in her obvious grief.

"My sisters called."

"I know that." The younger woman finished, shrugging her shoulders. "That still doesn't explain why you're crying."

"They. . . want me back home; as soon as possible."

"Oh. . . but you. . . don't want to go back, I guess." A strange twist of insight later and Misty was on the bed next to May, trying not to throw her arms around the Hoenn native thanks to their jointed sympathy.

"I - it's just. . . I've never been as content with my life as I am right now, as I've been the past few weeks! I love it here, and I think my heart took to it so much it got ahead of the rest of me and decided it could play out the rest of its days here and. . . I can't! I just can't, can I? What other choice do I have next to going back home! I knew it was going to happen eventually but I just wanted. . . everyone to forget that it had to!" She wailed, not realizing that what she was saying might by heard by someone other than May.

"I'm sorry you think that you have to go back."

"I do, I have to! I knew they wouldn't care that what they were doing to me was running me down! My sisters just never want to take responsibility for themselves!"

"You should consider your options."

"I don't have any, though! They need me and I know they do and I can't stand for them to think I'm unreliable, to think I don't care, when I am and I do! And Ash has bills of his own to pay and I've doubled them over the course of the past few weeks I've been here and he's said nothing to me about it! I don't deserve to stay here and just enjoy my life! I can't do anything to defend myself from this; I have to go back to Cerulean!"

"You. . . don't _really _have to, do you?"

Misty blinked her eyes open, hyperventilating and realizing quite suddenly that her face was buried in May's shoulder. The younger woman's plush pajama shirt was basically soaked through now.

"But. . . they can't handle themselves, and Ash. . ."

"Ash loves you, Misty; you're his best friend. He'd do next to anything for you, and so would I and Brock. If you're happy here, then he wouldn't say no to letting you stay, I'm sure. He loves the company, even if it means dealing with someone who can be a polar opposite to his personality at times. . . and there's no reason why you can't get a part-time job out here, and continue living _out here_."

"But what about. . ."

"How old are your sisters, anyway? They're almost thirty and they're depending on someone who's got nothing on them in age. They dealt with the Gym before you went back home and if you give them the ultimatum, I have a feeling that they'll realize they need to do it again. One of your dreams when you were younger was that they'd grow to respect you as an equal. . . but I don't think it's developed the way you wanted it to. I'm sorry, Misty, but you gotta learn to say 'no' at some point."

"Say 'no'. . . I dunno if I can do that. I love the feeling of being needed."

"But how do you feel about the lack of appreciation? At this point, they're sticking you with whatever they can. And Misty, we're your friends so we can help you with all this. Max is running the Gym in Petalburg by himself, but I'm sure he has a few tricks to help your sisters. And Professor Oak runs a Preserve for Pokemon; I'm sure, at the end of the month, there's some extra PokeChow there. I bet you anything he'd have no problem sending it back to Cerulean. That way you don't need to worry about Pokemon feeding expenses, right?"

Misty dwelled on those thoughts, but not for long. She didn't want to think too much and end up disappointed. It happened often enough as it was.

She stared up at May's face and gave the tiniest bit of a relieved grin. She felt just a little better now, "Thanks. . . I dunno if what you said will actually mean anything when it comes down to it, but. . . it's nice to hear some of those words from anyone who isn't my conscience. For once."

Taking in the position she was holding, Misty rose from the bed and went to remove her hairbrush from the first bag she'd started packing. Realizing that her soaps and clothes for the day were among the things being bagged, she noticed that she really _had _been getting ahead of herself.

"Wanna head downstairs? I think Ash was just trying to whip up something for breakfast. Or, at least he was fifteen minutes ago."

Unfortunately for both of the girls, it seemed that Ash hadn't gotten much farther than where he'd been awhile back. He'd pulled a frying pan out from the place it usually hung on the wall next to the stove, and had his head currently stuck inside the fridge. One might have thought he'd fallen asleep just standing there, but the creaking of the stairs as the two women entered the kitchen proved otherwise, and he snapped his head up to attention.

"Oh, hey - I was just wondering if you guys had run away or something. You don't have to worry, May; my cooking's not nearly as bad as Misty's."

"H - hey! Stop telling lies!" Misty shouted as enthusiastically as she could muster. That being said, the enthusiasm wasn't that high, and when Ash turned to her with a smirk that clearly said he was ready so early in the morning for the competition, his expression sombered immediately.

"Hey, Myst; why's your face so red? We've barely started here. . . Come to think of it, what was actually going on upstairs? I swear I heard something like. . . like screaming, or crying. . ."

"Oh. It's nothing, not at all. I just. . . stubbed my nose - toe, I meant toe!" She finished with an anxious chuckle, sprinting across the kitchen and grabbing the frying pan, "But I'm over it! And how about, as a treat, I make breakfast?" She asked, holding it up.

The distraction worked. Ash tore the pan from her so fast, she thought he'd send them both crashing to the ground in his flurry. May stood silently in the doorway, her mouth open at the sight.

"No! I - I mean, no, Myst; I think May and I have this part. You know what you can do? You go ahead and set the table, okay? And whatever you do, stay away from this entire half of the kitchen." He marked the side to the right of May and the archway, which contained the fridge, stove, sink, cabinets containing seasonings and canned vegetables. "Just dishes and silverware. That's all you get to touch."

"Uhm. . . ugh, fine." She wasn't insulted, even if she sounded it, and she walked in the opposite direction of where Ash was standing in order to pull the plates down from the cabinet. Nervous to say the least, Ash kept his eyes on her all through the time it took him and May to cook breakfast.

Misty almost smiled. Ordinarily she would feel obligated to hurt Ash in some way for his obvious distaste of her cooking abilities, but she didn't want to draw the attention. Unfortunately she didn't know that not drawing attention was a way to draw attention. Misty didn't want her last day or so with her friends, spending time with them on a daily basis, to be filled with riddled argument. If she could avoid it, until she was gone. . . she'd rather do so.

Somehow, though, breakfast was turned in a silent meal. No one had anything to say. May's mouth was glued shut simply because she didn't want to say the wrong thing and start up a line of questioning leading towards Misty's distress that morning. Misty, herself, didn't know what to say that could be perceived as just normal enough. And, for whatever reason, Ash's eyes were trailing Misty's movements; perhaps he knew to a degree that there was something he was missing.

After everyone was finished eating, Misty volunteered to do the dishes. She didn't want to be involved with the others for just a little while. It had been too awkward earlier and she had to plan a few things; like how she was going to tell Ash goodbye, for example. And how she would spend the rest of her time here. . . It wasn't much, but she had to do something that showed she appreciated all he'd done.

_"Ash loves you, Misty; you're his best friend. He'd do next to anything for you. . ."_ May had said to her upstairs. And she didn't doubt those words, really. But they were adults now, not kids, and they all had responsibilities to handle.

As she placed the last glass into the drainer, she heard a noise behind her; a throat clearing. And then Ash spoke.

"I don't get it. I thought we'd gotten a bit close again after so long; it was starting to remind me of our journey through Kanto. But you're treating me like I'm undeserving of whatever's happening in your life now. I'm back where I started, aren't I?"

"Oh. . . No, I. . . Ash," she started, wringing her hands dry on a towel hanging from the fridge door-handle and turning to face him. Or his feet anyway. What could she say? "There's just this thing I'm trying to deal with, and I will, and you'll be the first to know about it when I do."

He sighed in a way that said he knew ahead of time she was going to be making an excuse.

"I'm not in the mood to play twenty-one questions, so I won't ask anything of you, Myst; just tell me one thing. Does this. . . thing. . . you're handling have anything to do that guy from earlier this week? Or with that call with your sisters from last night? Just tell me if I'm getting warm here." He had a grin on his face, small, and giving the message that he was upset that she wasn't coming to him. "May knows what this is, too, I think. She usually has a ton of things to say to anyone who will sit still long enough, but not this morning. So she must have had it on her mind, too."

"N - no! That's not it! I'm sure she's just got a lot of things to think about that are. . . unrelated to me. Like, she's going home today and she's just waiting for Drew to call her and tell her he's home so she can go."

Ash didn't respond, just gave her half a glance and continued on, back out into the living room to watch television with May. Misty joined them and neither she nor Ash gave any indication about the small discussion that had just taken place.

It was about forty-five minutes later when some musical tune started to play and May leapt to her feet, shuffling around with her pockets. She removed a cell phone from one of them and hurriedly answered the call.

"Oh, Drew! I've been wondering when you'd get back to me! What? You'll be there in about two hours? Hm, well I was having such a blast here, but if you really wanna see me that bad. . ." May giggled and Ash and Misty, just staring, heard a voice raising itself over the receiver. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry; I'll get there a little after you. Huh? Yeah, my ticket's set up for the 12:30pm bus. . . Uh huh, it should only be an hour or so long. . . Okay. . . Right, I'll see you later. Oh, and Binky-Bear? _I_. . . _love_. . . _you_!" The voice managed to get even louder in the two seconds it took for May to press the 'end call' button.

She turned to see her two older friends staring at her with wide, horrified eyes.

"Uh, May. . . no offense, but do you call him that on a regular basis? 'Cause Drew just doesn't seem the type of person to be. . . you know. . . okay with those kinds of nicknames." Ash said, and Misty shook her head in agreement.

"Huh? Oh, no way! I was just doing that for your benifit! Drew knows it, though; that's why he won't be changing the locks on me before I get home."

Misty didn't say anything, but she couldn't help but be unsure of it. . . After all, Drew had asked May when she'd be back, and in the time-frame he'd acquired, he could easily finish up hiring and paying a locksmith for his services. But May was smiling. . . and Misty suddenly felt the need to laugh, so she did.

Now her friends were staring at her, and May's smile was widening. Was that the plan? To shake things up a bit and get her to feel a little better? It worked. Ash was smiling, too, now.

"What time is it now, anyway?" May asked, checking the satelitte on her cell phone. "Man, it's already 11:45! I need to go and pack my things. . ." There was a trail of smoke as her feet raced up the stairs and then it was Ash and Misty. Alone. For the first time in almost two days.

"So. . . t.v.?"

"Yeah, definitely."

They were silent during the time the talk show they had randomly flipped to aired, while loud footsteps echoed off the ceiling as May threw all of her things from her stay over into her bag. It was still silent twenty minutes later when they heard the slamming of a door, also upstairs, insinuating that May had vanished into the bathroom to prep herself for when she saw her boyfriend again.

And it was silent, still, when they heard a loud grunt of exclamation and a door closing. And as the pounding on the steps increased, telling them that she was finally pulling her case towards the sitting room where they were at the moment, Misty spoke.

". . . When it's just you and me, I'll tell you."

Ash didn't have a chance to respond before May thrust herself overtop the back of the couch and her face landed in between him and Misty. There was the widest smile he'd ever seen on her face.

"I'm ready to go!"

"Yeah, I think we figured that out almost five minutes ago when your bag tried to demolish my staircase." Ash replied with intended sarcasm, but he got up anyway, and Misty followed suit. It was a common courtesy that the two of them would join May on her trip to the bustop, as well as sit with her during the few minutes' wait until she was gone.

In the case of Pallet, it was about a fifteen minute walk to the edge of town, towards the path leading to Viridian City, where the bus would be pulling up and - being the generous man that he was (not to mention being so easily susceptible to the big-blue-eyed stare's sequel) - Ash agreed to carry the suitcase that May had overstuffed.

Somehow, though he was weighed down with that extra twenty or so pounds, he still ended up about ten meters in front of the girls. It couldn't _possibly _have been because they slowed their own progress on purpose to continue their discussion from earlier that morning.

"You're gonna tell him, right? Like. . . today? He obviously won't appreciate it if he just wakes up to you not being there anymore." The younger woman stated plainly, staring at Misty's facial expression as though hoping to catch onto any lies.

"Oh. . . yeah. I told him I just wanted to wait until it was me and him. I don't know how he'll react, but I'd rather I be the only one to see it." The redhead faked a grin but May could tell she was speaking the truth.

"I guess it makes sense. It's not like him crying like a little girl would be anything new, though, right?" She giggled and both women managed to ignore the look Ash gave them. He knew who they were talking and laughing about. "But we both know that you're hoping for a little of this and a little of that, right?" She finished, appointing a few hand gestures that Misty had never known May to associate with any conversation she was a part of. In response to that, she turned bright red.

"Uh. . . ? N - no! No way! C'mon, he's not my type! His slightly arrogant, but overall a good-guy - and always there to save the day - fairytale personality was endearing when I was a teenager, but I've grown out of it, you know?" And as she finished her description of Ash, her breath caught in her throat.

It was another aspect of that life she'd always wanted for herself; the fairytale prince, huh? Or as close as she would be getting to one anyway.

May didn't speak anymore on the matter, but for the rest of their trip, she had a small smile on her face, as though considering Misty's reply to her inquiry earlier, and putting together her own analysis to it.

The trio of friends sat together under the awning, on the bench, for the next ten or so minutes. May seemed to be getting more and more restless at the thought of seeing her boyfriend, Drew, again and Misty was almost aggravated. . . It would have been worse if she wasn't so jealous.

To be anticipating the rejoining with your loved one so much that you couldn't even sit still for the final half-an-hour leading up to it. . . ? Yeah, that was something else she'd been looking forward to as a girl.

Perhaps that was why she had wanted to fall in love at such a young age. It was as they said; the earlier it was done, the more of your life you'd be spending with that person. . . or something like that. And maybe _that _was why. . . she'd associated her crush with Ash as love, and so she wouldn't let any other girl come near him.

She had hoped to think of him as the boy - or man - she'd always love because then it would be easier to collapse into the lifestyle she'd wanted for herself when she was oh-so young.

But that was unrealistic, she saw now, and perhaps she'd seen it as she grew up as well. To depend on happiness based on how you felt for one person? It was unlikely that you'd be happy at all that way.

_But still_, Misty reasoned as she continued to watch May wiggle around in her seat while nervously tapping her fingers along her thighs, _it would be nice to feel the way she does and have it be reciprocated_.

The bus came and went but there were no tearful goodbyes. At least not on Misty's part; her mind was filled with troubles in other categories, so when she paid the two or so tears May happened to shed only a piece of her current state, May wasn't insulted; she understood.

But Ash was another story.

"Okay, is this just another one of those girl-things that none of you will tell me about, otherwise it'll spoil the secret?" He asked sharply as they waved May off. Misty was caught off-guard by the question.

"What do you mean?" She asked, already shuffling her feet and walking off as fast as possible back towards her friend's house. She had her own preperations to take care of before she, too, had to leave. She didn't want to think of the scientific theory behind May's crying, because she had a feeling that it was all due to the fact that the younger girl feared it would be months or even years up until the time they'd be seeing each other again.

A sigh fell upon her back but she still didn't bother turning to face him. . . until he spoke. "You promised you'd tell me when she was gone, so spill. Maybe then I won't need to ask about whatever happened back there." And Ash jacked his thumb behind him towards the bench they'd been sitting on a little while ago.

Just then there was a crash of thunder throughout the sky. Misty didn't smile but she did take peace in it; another distraction to keep her from telling Ash what was going on. And when the two got home, they'd both be so soaked that neither one's mind would be on it at all.

"Uh. . . we better get going before it starts to--" She was cut off as a drop of rain hit her on the nose and she wiped it off out of discomfort, "--yeah, that."

"What? No!" Ash shouted, hurriedly grasping her hand before she could go any further. "You said you'd tell me when we were alone, and we can't get much more alone than this!" He looked around, waving his other arm in example. For the sake of the fic, the area they seemed to be in was completely deserted.

"B - but it's starting to. . ." Ash glared hard at her as she tried to ease out of his grip. "Look, no matter what you say, I'm not gonna tell you right now! Not until we get home!" And at the end of her statement, a flash of lightning lit up the sky, her face glowing for a split second in the firey white hue. Ash ignored the slight tinge of red on his cheeks, which was pretty easy considering the situation they were in and the conversation they were having. . . the one that Misty suddenly didn't seem to want to be a part of.

She closed her eyes, not looking at anything and refusing to feel the rain splattering against her clothes. She wasn't here. This whole thing wasn't happening, and she wasn't hurting because she had to go home and she'd probably not be seeing her friends again for another year or so.

May had good reason to cry under these beliefs, Misty reasoned, as she felt her own eyes watering up. She ignored the chills she was getting from the cold, the only bearable thought being that Ash - who was forcibly holding her here - was feeling just as uncomfortable.

"Why not now? What's so much better about telling me at my house? You have to face your problems where you stand, Misty, you can't just keep putting them on hold! That's how you ended up where you are, feeding off of your sisters few words of praise as they eat away at you with their problems that they _should _be handling but aren't!" He shouted coldly, not caring for her reaction to the words.

Misty's eyes snapped open. How dare he. . . ? He had no right to say these things to her! As if he knew how it felt!

"What happened to you, Misty?" He whispered and, though it was in the same careless tone as his last statement, she felt a twinge of guilt at the look on his face. He wasn't angry anymore, really; just confused and upset.

"What. . . do you mean?" She gulped.

"You were my best friend and I knew you inside and out. Yeah, you cared then what your sisters thought of you and I can see why now. They never really had a simply kind word for you, did they? But I thought you were stronger than that, disgracing yourself to what you've become. Are you fetching them their newspaper, too?"

"You asshole. . . !" She shrieked, finally finding the strength to rip her arm away. "You. . . just. . . don't. . . get it! The world is different for you then it is for me! I'm not leading the life I wanted, you're right - you all are! But I'm not hating the one I _am _living! J - just stop psychoanalysing me like you have the degree to do it! And you think you knew me? Hah! I've kept secrets from you for years that you'll _never _know about!"

The comment did throw him for a moment, but it wasn't long before his expression stating he'd get the truth out of her was back on his face again. He didn't try to grab her arm again, but he did look her in the eyes in a way that almost scared her.

"Secrets, huh? Good to know. . . but for now, I just want to know what you've been keeping from me since yesterday."

"You wanna know so bad?! Fine; Ash, _I'm going home_!" She finished, turning tail and running back to his house.

Ash cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled after her, "Fine, I'll meet you there in a couple minutes!" And then he started walking.

**OoO**

Misty liked to think that, while Ash had made that wry joke, he understood what she meant when she said she was leaving him. She liked to think, also, after that argument, that it was all his fault.

_He _was the reason she was going back to Cerulean. _He _made her miserable and she couldn't stand to be around him and his personality for that much longer. _He _was an idiot who gave her no alternative and so she had to go back. . . Misty almost smiled at how she could so easily place the blame on him; and as she shuffled through her pockets to find the extra key Ash had given her to his front door; as she went inside, turned and locked it, and then jumped the stairs two at a time; and as she stumbled into her room, partially out of breath. . . she continued to think those thoughts like a mantra and it soothed her own mind into accepting all that was happening.

The point of heading straight up here was not to change her clothes or to dry off, but to immediately continue the packing she'd started this morning. She could still hear the slightly muffled rumbles of thunder and the pitter-patter of rain on the rooftops, and she could see a random crash of lightning every once in awhile, but she figured Ash would be okay. She'd made it back safely, right?

But still she sat there, and she only started to move when she heard the front door downstairs creaking open and then slamming shut again a moment later. She figured Ash - annoyed, disgruntled, angry, or something like it - would simply head into the kitchen to grab something to eat, turn on the television, or run upstairs and into his room to do what she should be doing now - trying to prevent herself from getting sick. So it was a shock when she heard his voice from behind her again.

"Oh, so _this _is what you meant." Ash said, glancing around at the five or so bags already half packed.

"Yeah, this; can you go away and let me finish packing now?"

". . . You know, I may not know all the secrets you've been keeping from me since we were kids, but I do know how to make you talk. All I have to do is say the right thing to set you off and. . . bingo." He snapped his fingers for added effect and sat down on her bed. "I can almost make you say anything. It's a cool power to have, isn't it, Misty?"

Her response was to hit him upside the head with one of her shampoo bottles.

"Okay. . . maybe I deserved that." Ash coughed, massaging his forehead after the assault. "Still, I'm right, aren't I? How else were you gonna come out and tell me what was happening? If I'd left it to you, you'd have stayed silent and just gone when it was time, wouldn't you? You never say what's bothering you when it comes to things like this, unless you have no other choice. Don't you remember Viridian City? You could have told me straight out that you didn't wanna go but instead you just called me an idiot and ran off."

It was Misty's turn to be red in the face, and she followed it through well enough, fighting so that he wouldn't see it the way she knew it was there.

"I guess you have a point. . . but I didn't want to tell you anyway."

"Why not? You don't think I have a right to know?" Ash didn't sound so insulted as much as he sounded. . . hurt.

"No, it's not that! It's just. . . telling someone else, let alone someone who'd be one of the most effected by it. . . it would just make it all too real. I'd have no choice but to take it as fact that my stay here is over. And I'd have to leave."

Ash didn't reply to that and she turned to glance at him and see why. . . only to recognize the slightly clueless expression on his face.

"You don't wanna go back home to your sisters?" He asked, his mouth gaping half-open and Misty couldn't help but go red again. She didn't think he would catch on to it on his own; he had never seemed so smart about those things before.

"Well, I mean. . . it's not like I'd never want to see them again but. . . I'm no idiot. I know what I like, what I appreciate, and spending all day, everyday, as their lapdog isn't it."

"You think they think of you as their lapdog?"

"Well. . . no, not that either. I just know that Daisy's the only one who realizes what a hardship it is to be taken so lightly when I do so much, and. . . well, they are grown women, right?"

Misty was suddenly horrified. What if Ash was disgusted by the fact that she would abandon her siblings the way she felt she had to? What if he couldn't bear to let her stay here in his house for the rest of the day, let alone the next few while she planned her ride back home? He'd never had brothers or sisters of his own before, so Misty figured he'd probably always wanted at least one - (one of those, 'you want what you can't have' situations) - but then again, he had no idea how those types of relationships could play out, years later after growing up with those brothers or sisters a person might have wanted so much.

"Myst. . ." She clenched her eyes shut. It was coming. "I'm sorta proud of you for admitting to that."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, Ash, but that's just how it goes someti -- what?"

"I mean, you love your sisters, but you know what they're doing to you is no good for you, and you know you want more. I already told you that I think you're running yourself down doing what you do in Cerulean, and that they're contributing to it so carelessly. . . They are your sisters, yeah, but if they treat you like that then they don't deserve to keep depending on you the way they are.

"And you may love them, and they may love you - who am I to say otherwise? But they need a lesson on what love really is, I think."

"What love. . . really is. . ." Misty quoted breathlessly. Ash made more sense now than he ever had before.

"Yeah, like how you're my best friend, and I love you, too. That's why I let you come here rather than expecting you to put out money you didn't have to go away and stay at a hotel. I didn't expect you to start work to pay off your stay, but I also didn't expect you to want me to be your slave-boy while you recovered. I think you respect that, right?"

"What. . . ? Ah, yeah, of course." For whatever reason, Misty couldn't help but turn red when he said that first part of the statement.

"And that's a kind of love, too. It's kinda like. . . how I think that you should go for what you think is right for you. And if that so dictates something like. . . say. . . my agreeing that you could stay here with me even longer than was planned before so that you can think about what that is - what you really want for _you _- then. . . okay."

Misty blinked. She must have missed something.

"What?"

"I said you can stay."

". . . You mean it's okay? You're okay with that? You want me to stay?" She asked, each sentence leaving her tone to get more excited.

"Yeah, it's okay; I'm thinking that I can live with you for a little while longer. . . and maybe. . . I might want you here with me."

That line had effected her in a way she hadn't expected. Her eyes watered and she threw to the side the pair of pants she'd been spending the past ten minutes trying to fold up. Unsuccessful, obviously, she ignored it and jumped Ash, sending him backwards and banging his head into the wall. Admittedly, and let it be news to anyone else in that position from there on in, there was not much space between Ash's seat on the twin-sized bed and the wall behind him.

". . . I'd say ouch," he grunted a moment later, "but I don't think it would matter."

"Awe, you'll live." She replied, fluffing his already overly-fluffed hair.

Misty Waterflower, age twenty-four, who had once been a young girl with three older sisters who grew up to take advantage of her existence. She'd had a best friend since her preteen days, one who'd been a young boy and who had grown into a young man, his fairytale personality never changing.

And at age twenty-four, a young adult woman, Misty Waterflower had learned that she was still growing, and still being taught lessons.

Today's hadn't hit her until just now, but she knew it was important enough in any case. . . it was about the life she'd always hoped to be living, and how it may have finally come together a bit in her favor.

Fairytales were wonderful things. Told to young children, they taught those children that dreams come true, and to fight for what they believed was right. But it was something she hadn't understood until now, that those happy endings she'd always loved - that she'd always hoped for herself - were not so unrealistic as they were. . . not as spectacular.

Because it was the best fairytales that didn't end with a happy ever after. Instead, they ended with a. . .

. . . To be continued.

**OoOoO**

**Notes **- Whew! I worked really hard on this chapter. Over the past week, I've squeezed out every last ounce of inspiration I could to put this together the way I've dreamed of it being, just so I could get it out before tomorrow (Saturday). And I've succeeded! Unfortunately, I'm not sure if it's done the way I'd been wanting it, but as long as my readers are happy, then I guess I'll live. It's because of these hopes for perfection in this chapter in particular that I'm hoping all reviews be. . . critical. I'm not saying flame me to hell because I'm a masochist and that's all I want. Believe me, when I get that rare review written by a person who knows their grammar and punctuation, and who tells me that this is one of the best fics they've ever read, I glow inside. And outside. And I squeal. So I do like those types of comments, but if you really need to tell me that you think something would have been better off put a different way, or something like that, tell me exactly what you mean. Okay? Okay.

Also, I guess I should apologize that I waited so long to update at all. Partially, it's because I've had some things due at school (like a really big Psychology paper), but another part of me put it on hold again purposefully to see if I could get enough reviews to make the total equal out to those on my other fic, "Illicit Saints." I think that one less than my other one. . . I can live with it. So sorry that I was selfish like that, but I couldn't help it. -**apologetic smile**- Forgive me?

Although I did make it worth it; meaning that this chapter is about three thousand words longer than the last. YAY!


	8. You Know They Mean the World to Me

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes **- I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Eight **- "You Know They Mean the World to Me"

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **March **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially started **December 13th, 2007.**

**O**o**O**o**O**

Ash would never have admitted to anyone - _ever _- that he might have really, really, _really _wanted Misty to stay with him. This was mostly because of where the comment would lead him in conversation - meaning, Brock would accuse him of being in love with his best friend, May would coo about how cute it seemed that he cared for that friend so much, and Misty would probably laugh at him. And he didn't feel like being laughed at, really.

Actually, compared to the accusations and the cooing, his best friend laughing him out of the room seemed so much worse for whatever reason. It was something else he refused to admit, that being that the reason he might have hated the idea of being laughed at so much was because it was Misty who was doing the laughing.

Moving on, Misty was noticably happier since their talk upstairs in her room. It had ended with her telling him that they were obviously switching beds that evening since he'd dampened her mattress so much and she was _not _going to sleep on a moldy mattress that was going to start smelling like wet dog in the middle of the night. Then the two had been silent in a way that said they didn't know what else to say to each other that could be more of a proper end for the situation so Misty let him go, easing herself off of his torso so that it seemed she had been completely comfortable where she'd been before.

"What do I say to them?" She asked then, and his heart went out to her. Yeah, he wanted her to stay with him and, yeah, he had figured out at this point that it seemed this was where she wanted to be, too, but he had no experience in disappointing someone to the degree that Misty felt she was going to be disappointing her sisters. Ash was the hero of his own story, and as such, he'd never had to go through something like that. It was why he and Pikachu had never been separated longer than a few hours when Team Rocket tried to steal the poor electric mouse, why his mother was so proud of him, why Professor Oak felt he could ask for favors. It was why Gary felt him worthy of being a rival, why May had deemed him an appropriate teacher when it came to her learning how to battle.

Quite honestly, this was all new to him. He was going to admit to it because his head was suddenly starting to overheat, but Misty beat him to it.

"Nevermind, don't tell me. I've gotta be the one to do it, right? And if I really think about it and I say what I think needs to be said. . . it'll all work out. Or at least, that's what everyone keeps telling me anyway." She said with a breath of laughter, and got to her feet, stepping over the few articles of clothing in her way to get to the door and into the hall. "I'm gonna go call them now and. . . get it over with. Ash, could you do me a favor?"

He looked up at her questioningly, figuring that - if anything - she might be asking for his support on the matter, but got his reigns handed back to him in such a way that it winded him, too.

". . . Could you stay up here? I wanna do it alone." The smile she wore softened then, and finally disappeared, and he didn't know what to think about her for a moment, "I want them to listen to _me _for once; I don't need anyone to speak for me. It's been fun hoping things would just turn out okay all my life, but I think I'm ready to breathe for myself now."

The words didn't even sink in until after his best friend had started her descent on the staircase, and it left Ash with a smile of his own. Perhaps the Misty he'd known for so long hadn't gone that far away after all.

Misty, on the other hand, felt like she'd rather have been in the bathroom upstairs throwing up instead of walking closer and closer to the vid-phone of doom. Don't get her wrong, she knew she needed to do this; but that didn't mean she wasn't utterly terrified of the results. It would not be for awhile that she would forget that every other time she tried talking to her sisters, it seemed like they were constantly leading the conversation and she never got a word in. She was tired of it, too.

It was a miracle that, as absentminded as she was, she didn't walk into anything on her way to the wall between the kitchen and living room, where the main phone was. And as she dialed the number and switched on the monitor, she sighed. She knew she needed to be face-to-face when she did this.

She heard the ringing in her ear and, as annoying and repetitive as it was, she loved it far more than Daisy's voice when she first picked up on the other line.

"Hello; thank you for contacting Cerulean City Gym, home of the Sensational Sisters and their underwater ballet expertise. You're talking to Daisy Waterflower. Please let me know if you'd like information on our shows, or open hours for trainers to present themselves for battle."

"Oh. . . uh. . . hi?"

"I'm, like, sorry; who is this?" The monitor was flipped on from her side of the conversation and Misty was finally staring at the face of her oldest sibling, and that face lit up the moment she realized who it was she was talking to. "Oh, little sister! I'm glad you called! We were talking about you just earlier today and it came down to, like, wondering when you'd be catching a ride back. . . Have you made plans yet?"

"Um. . . yeah, actually; I have made some. . ." Misty couldn't help the overly-large, dramatic breath she drew in before continuing what she'd started to say, ". . . To stay here, though."

Daisy blinked and her grin seemed to stiffen until it was affixed below her nose in a way that clearly stated it was almost fake now.

It was in a tone of forced calm when she happened to ask in reply, "I'm not sure I understand; you're doing what?"

"Look, Daisy. . . I'm sorry - I don't think I can say it enough. . . but I don't want to be there anymore. You guys. . . don't need me there, you know?"

"What are you talking about? Of course we _need _you, Misty! You're the best out of any of us to handle the most important tasks needed to keep this Gym running, so how could you think that. . ." Daisy was almost immediately silenced by Misty shaking her head.

"You don't, Daisy, you're mixing it up. You want me there because I'm the one person who knows all that needs to be done, when it needs to be done by, and how not to procrastinate. The truth is, I'm your way out, and though you don't see it that way, it's just how it is. And I can't take it anymore. I'm. . . sorry, again."

Daisy was smiling again and she was faking it pretty well. It was easy to tell because her cheeks were wavering in a way that said she was forcibly holding the expression up. It was hard not to give in when your sister was crying for you, or because of you, or whatever. . . but Misty wouldn't let herself give in.

"You can't, like, take it? You would want to be anywhere but here, wouldn't you. . . ?" The older blonde asked and Misty felt as though her own words must have gone right over her sister's head.

"No! Oh no, no, no! You still aren't understanding. . ." But it was Daisy's turn to shake her head.

". . . I understand just fine, little sister. We tore you away from that life you had when you were younger. . . but it wasn't all out of selfishness. I thought that. . . you wanted to take over the Gym one day, even if only to prove that you could handle it so that we'd, like, get off your case. . ." She laughed then, and Misty made herself ignore the fact that she had started crying. "We came back from our trip overseas and were more than willing to take the Gym back over, but I think by then. . . you didn't want to lose the reputation you'd gained, so you stayed too. I didn't think about it much until now that. . . you've never had any obstacle as hard to get past in your life next to us."

"Obstacle?" It was in the form of a question, and it was obvious that Misty hadn't thought about it much either, or, at least to the degree that that was what she considered her siblings to be. But that was because. . . they weren't, right? A challenge, maybe, because she always had a hard time declining their offers or demands or need for assistance, but obstacle seemed out of place. "You're not, Daisy. . . none of you are. But I just. . ."

"Little sister, you didn't have to stay all this time with us in Cerulean if you didn't really want to be here. You had friends that you couldn't see for months or years at a time, like, because you thought you needed to keep us all afloat. You're always so oaf-headed like that."

"H - hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Misty asked in aggravation.

"It means that you're the one and only person I know who would stick with things to do with you or people you care about out to the end just to see it work out the way you think perfection should work out. You need to, like, get over yourself." Daisy was laughing almost full-heartedly now at the look on her youngest sister's face.

Misty had to admit that it was hard to deny the fact that she had just been relayed. She always wanted things to be the best they could be, she wanted to be looked at with pride and acceptance and she wanted to be given all responsibility that she could handle just so that she could prove that she _could _handle it. Everything was worthwhile for her when she could look back on a job well done to view the results whenever she so pleased. Though, she also knew that it was not her own views of those jobs well done that meant anything to her; because whenever anyone else told her that they thought she was great, or strong, or anything of the sort. . . well. . . she fed off of those comments in a way that she hadn't fully understood until now.

". . . Daisy. . . I want you to take my name from the paperwork designating me as the official leader of the Cerulean Gym; in fact, as I'm sure they won't complain. . . I think you should take off Lilly and Violet's, too." Misty stated quite suddenly.

"Wait, what? You, like, think I should be running this place by myself?"

"You all live in a government-owned building, meaning there's no rent or mortgage to pay back. What I think you should do is battle alone because I know you, Daisy, and I know you can handle it now. The only thing Lilly and Violet might do to contribute to the Gym is participate in your shows, and that's not what the arena is for; that's just extra income. You need to tell them that. . . because they don't work like you do for the Gym that they are to pay you a monthly rent. And that monthly rent can go to anything it's needed for. Maintenence or Pokemon needs, medical necessities, etcetera." The redhead continued, and Daisy seemed to be getting more shocked by the moment.

". . . B - but. . . they're our sisters! And. . . it's not like their jobs pay so well, like, either!" Daisy admonished, as though disbelieving to the fact that Misty would even come up with this kind of stuff.

"Daisy, Lilly and Violet work outside of the Gym. Other than when it was necessary, they barely took care of anything inside with their paystubs from their other jobs. Sacrifices have to be made, right? But only in a sense that those two need to start paying for a roof over their heads that they, otherwise, don't really contribute towards. Is that so wrong?"

"But. . . but what about. . ."

"Sacrifices. You all never understood what those were because you all liked to think that you lived in a fantasy world where you were constantly admired and well-groomed. Now it's time to. . . face reality." And then, in a mutter, ". . . It's taken me long enough to do the same." Misty sighed again and looked to her oldest sibling, noticing that her tears had dried. (Probably from the shock of what was being said.) "You need to grow up and realise that, if you want to keep things as they are, just do what you've been doing for the past four years or so. . . but if you want them to get better, you need to change your lifestyle, even just a little.

"Your monthly perms and your bi-weekly manni's and petti's and your shopping sprees and things. . . You can do without them for the next few months while you get the big things taken care of. Once you've saved enough money to take care of the maintenence expenses, you need to go out for a medical insurance policy for the three of you, and then, save a few dollars a week besides that in case of anything else going wrong over the course of the next few months. Other than that, the money is all yours to spend, isn't it?"

"You make it sound so easy." Daisy stated, probably more contemptuously than she was originally planning. "If we could just switch ourselves off and on like that, there wouldn't have ever been any problems, would there?"

"You didn't, I don't think, because you felt you had. . . more of a choice, if you know what I mean." Misty looked away as she said it, the reference to herself not nearly so endearing as it might have been when she was a teenager. "You always had me as a bail-out card and you took advantage of that, didn't you. . . ? And I let you, so - honestly - it can't really be your fault. But that was when we were all in our worst places. I'm not saying that it will all be immediate and that you'll have it easy in a couple months. It'll take more of your time and you'll have to learn more about organization and time-management, but you can do it if it's something you set your mind to."

". . . And why do you, like, think it would be something I could set this mind to?" Daisy asked, pointing at her own scalp and almost laughing about how ridiculous it seemed.

"It's either that or all three of you end up homeless." Misty shrugged in response, not letting on to the fact that she would never let that happen to them anyway.

"Point taken, little sister." It was at this point that Daisy and Misty were both partially silenced by the shutting of a door and the simultaneous giggles on the Cerulean line announcing the re-arrival of their other sisters.

". . . So, do you wanna tell them, or should I?" The redhead asked, but the soon-to-be newly appointed sole leader of the Cerulean Gym was already shaking her head.

"No, no; I'm pretty sure it was hard enough for you to say it just the first time. How about I, like, handle it from here?" Both of them gulped, neither one looking forward to the coming conversation.

"Okay, then. . . I'm, I mean, I guess I should. . . go for now. I'll call you soon to tell you how I'm doing. Okay?"

"Sure. And if you, like, don't, I'll call and harass your boyfriend's answering machine until you, like, call me back."

"Sounds fair enough." Misty laughed, and it seemed that they were done talking, "So. . . I'll talk to you later?" She asked, her hand lingering on the receiver because she suddenly couldn't bare to put it down and hang up on the one person, one relative, who had first finally understood how she felt.

"Oh, yeah, definitely. And, like, Misty?"

". . . Yeah?"

"I just thought you should know that we'll, like, always need you. Don't think that, just because I'm agreeing to let you go it means you don't ever have to have anything to do with the Gym, or us, again."

"Oh, I - I would never dream of it."

Their goodbyes finally said, they hurriedly hung up on one another before it could get anymore emotional and Misty stepped away from the vid-phone, walking backwards until her thighs came into contact with the armrest of the couch. Not caring anymore, she let herself fall backwards so that her knees buckled around the rest and she laid there quietly.

It was okay; Daisy was okay with it. She could stay for awhile longer, learn how to live in a way where she wasn't constantly trying to breathe. She didn't know how to feel though. She was just so relieved that it had gone okay, and that she could be the way she was now for a longer period of time. . . But she also found herself almost regretting the choice - or, rather, she regretted the fact that it had left her sister in confusion and tears and, as she felt it, she knew Daisy must have felt as well, a sense of loss.

"You aren't thinking you're abandoning them again, are you? Myst, they let you go! And, from what I heard, it went way better than what you thought it was going to anyway!" Ash laughed, his face suddenly appearing overtop the back of the couch so that her breath hitched in fear for just a moment. . . but it didn't last long.

"You. . . ! You were listening in on what I was saying! God, Ash; don't you have any ounce of decency in you for the sake of other peoples' privacy? I mean, didn't I ask you to stay upstairs while I. . ." She had leapt up from where she was laying and started immediately on a rant, but it didn't last long as she noticed Ash ignoring her words and wandering into the kitchen, ". . . Hey, where are you going? I'm trying to tell you off! Can't you tell?" She yelled still, getting off of the couch and following after him by means of finishing what she had to say.

"Myst, I've heard it all before; at this point I just tune you out, you know?" Ash shrugged, opening up the freezer and pulling out one of the t.v. microwavable dinners she'd gotten for them earlier that week. He glanced at the picture on the front weakly before turning it over with a slight grimace and reading the instructions while he ripped open one of the sides of the boxed packaging with one of his hands.

Misty wished she could have thought of something to say to that, but her curiousity suddenly got the better of her.

"Why are you grabbing dinner so early? It's barely six. . ." She asked, and even through her confusion, she too walked up to the freezer and pulled down another one of those familiar boxes, ripping hers open while glancing at Ash, awaiting his answer.

"I have to get up early tomorrow; I have a job to get to across town. Oh, and that reminds me; can you watch Pikachu while I'm gone? I don't want her to think that I've abandoned her up at the Professor's preserve so every couple days or so I bring her back here and let her hang out. I'm sure you've noticed. . . But since I won't be here tomorrow. . . well, you know. . ." He finished, letting her lead up to her own conclusion.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. . ." Misty muttered, but she was no longer angry or upset. It was just something about what Ash had said that had disturbed her on some level that had nothing at all to do with him, personally.

She had now been in his house for almost a month, the time consumption so obvious now that she had been backed up against a wall, almost having to return home. . . And even though she'd escaped that, she knew that it didn't mean she could lay about and do nothing. Even if Ash didn't say up front to her that he needed her to help make a valuable income, she knew what it cost just to feed them both every week and while Ash's freestyle repair jobs paid well. . . the bills, mortgage, and priviledges of the house would indeed fall behind if he kept it up alone.

"Hey, Ash. . . what should I do?" She asked quite suddenly, as her fully-formed thought process closed down. "What do you want me to do while you work?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, his brow furrowing as his eyes raked the quicky meal placed in the microwave. He didn't look at her, even for a second. "I already asked if you could look after Pikachu, or do you not want to?" He finished exasperatedly.

"No, not that! I love Pikachu, and you know I'd never say no to looking out for her while you're not around to do it. . . but - long-term - what should I be doing here?"

"Well, cooking's definitely out of the question. . . In fact, let's just scratch out anything having to do with food, including grocery shopping. . . unless I give you a _very _specific list about what to get." He was finally looking at her now, and it was with a laugh that she didn't join in. When he noticed this, Ash sighed and pulled open the door to the mini-oven, distractedly removing the forked-through plastic wrap covering the mashed potatoes so that he could stir them around a bit before placing it back in for another minute or so.

"Misty, you worry a lot, don't you? No wonder you made yourself sick. I'm not saying I wanna come home and find you sitting on the couch watching rented chic-flicks and eating chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream everytime I go out. . . but you don't have to rush into it. You know what I think you should do? Pick up the next paper with employment openings available and pick all the ones you like, and that you have a chance at getting."

"I know you're saying this now, but I think I can have a job by the end of next week if I really try for it, so. . ."

". . . You have problems listening, too, huh? . . . Look, Myst, you wanna know why I think you were so stressed out that time before you came here?" He asked, removing his meal from the microwave again, setting it aside, grabbing Misty's from her hands, punching some holes in the plastic wrap with his fork, and putting it in next. He would have sounded a lot more insightful to her if he'd tried to look at her more than just to make sure of where her hands were, so that he could remove the item held there.

"No, but I know you better than most people, even after all this time. If you've got something you want to say, something you think is right, I can't stop you by saying I don't wanna hear it, can I?"

"Misty, you were sad, plain and simple. Your sisters didn't respect you the way you wanted them to, you were overworked, you were forced to pay attention to things you might not ordinarily care at all about - because it was your job and you had no other choice. No matter where you turned, you were between a Golem and a hard place. Well, you're here now. . . and I think you should take advantage of that new-found freedom."

Misty blinked. Suddenly, him looking at her in order for her to take him that much more seriously seemed not to matter at all.

"What do you mean?"

"I want you to get a job, yeah, but I don't want you to be as miserable and distant with me as you were when you were in Cerulean and we all barely ever had a chance to see you. So take your time, check for all of the availibilites in town, and find something you think you'd actually be able to tolerate, something you'd actually _like _to be doing."

Misty's eyes widened as Ash finished his speech. For some reason, it all made so much sense. Maybe Ash had been dropped on his head again while she'd been gone and whatever wires that had always been loose in there had been remixed. . . He'd never sounded so honest and caring and _smart _before now. Of course, it wasn't like Misty had never thought of that whole thing before - like, getting a job somewhere she'd love to be everyday - but her living situation back in Cerulean hadn't called for it; rather, it had called for any easily found extra source of income. So that was what Misty had gone for when she'd walked into town and seen the, "now hiring," sign in the window of the convenience store she'd applied to.

She'd had an on-the-spot interview there and been hired by the manager on shift the very same day, starting work only two days later. It was such short notice that she'd barely had a chance to mention the entire process to her sisters, let alone ask for someone to take over her shift at the Gym as Leader for half a week or so while she got acclimated with her new job.

To be quite honest, Misty hadn't had a choice about much of anything in her life until fairly recently - until she'd come to live with Ash. It was a shame, too. . . And she wasn't even talking about the lack of choices. . . It was just. . .

. . . She didn't have any clue how to repay him for it all.

**O**o**O**o**O**

It was awhile later, unfortunately, that Ash had learned to regret the many things he'd said to Misty in hopes of making her happier; in fact, to be more precise, it was almost two months.

It seemed she was trying very hard to find a suitable career, but was failing almost too earnestly. For instance, she'd gone for an interview as a librarian due to the fact that she wouldn't have to remain forcibly calm for hours at a time while customer after customer complained, and instead would only have to face them when they needed help finding something. . . Unfortunately, the manager conducting the interview had been a real stiff - overly-controlling and obsessedly by-the-book - and when Misty had leapt up from her seat and yelled out as two carts of returned books just happened to crash into one another and get sent straight to the floor, she had been dismissed before she could even catch her breath.

Of course, that wasn't the only interview she'd had, but none of them seemed to pan out. Ash wasn't so worried about that as much as he was about something else. . . Something Misty had neglected to even mention to him until the time right before she walked out the door of his house one certain evening.

"Where are ya going?" He asked, looking up from the sitcom he was watching to see her adjusting the skirt she happened to be wearing at the time.

"Oh, I must have forgotten to say. . . Sorry, Ash, but you'll be eating alone tonight. I've got a date!" And she sounded just so excited for herself.

"A what?" He suddenly couldn't find himself troubled to sit any longer as he raised himself to his feet and stared evenly at her. "Since when? How could you forget to tell me that?"

For whatever reason, Misty found herself disgruntled at the question.

"Ash, you're my best friend; not my keeper. I appreciate what you're doing by letting me stay here, and I'd also appreciate it if you tried not to pry your way into my life, okay? It's not like it's distracting me from looking for a job, right? I'm still working on it, and just as hard as I've been since the beginning."

"W - well, yeah, I know _that_. . . but. . ." Honestly, Ash couldn't even say for sure why he suddenly felt the hostile need to know absolutely everything about Misty and her newly mentioned date that night. And because of this confusion, he found it much easier just to sit back down and stare at the television he'd been watching before being interrupted. "Eh, sorry, I was just. . . curious. You go ahead and have a good time, okay?"

And Misty did. In fact, when she came back that evening and shut the door behind her a little obliviously loud, sighing and waking up a formerly snoring Ash, who had still been watching an episode of that same sitcom earlier that evening (which had turned out to be a marathon), she found herself only too willing to tell him about everything that had happened while she was out. . . A polar opposite from how she'd been beforehand.

". . . I - I couldn't have even dreamed of it going so well, Ash, and you know me - I _tried _to." She sighed again and patted him over so that she could join him on the couch. "He was a perfect gentleman - pulling out my seat, offering to remove my jacket, giving suggestions and to pay the bill while still respecting that I am an individual and a woman of the twenty-first century who can handle half of the tip if she so desires."

Ash snorted but refused to comment on anything. . . until. . .

"Wait, we go out to lunch at least once a week and you never offer to pay half of _that _tab!"

"Ash, I didn't offer; he did. And are you kidding? I'm completely broke without a job of my own, so of course I let him pay, and he even accepted that without saying anything rude to me. . . unlike _some _insensitive roommate I know." She finished plainly, eyeing him with her perepheral vision to see his reaction.

"Yeah, well. . . maybe it's the _true _gentleman who doesn't even consider that the woman should have to pay out on a meal."

And now she was staring at him fully.

"Ash," she started with an irritated expression on her face, "you just complained about how I didn't help you pay for it. Don't act all of a sudden like you'd never have dreamed of it in the first place." It didn't even take her three seconds after this line before her hands were clasped again in wonder of the memories of her perfect evening and she started out on a rant for the second time. "You know, though, you could learn a lesson or two from him. . . He's so smart and insightful and attentive and caring. He didn't let the conversation go dead all night long and he was funny and kept me entertained. He didn't keep talking about himself as though he were the most interesting and worthwhile thing in the world but he let me go on about myself as long as I wanted to and. . ."

Ash snorted again.

"Just who is this guy. . . ?" He muttered ruefully, trying to tune Misty out again. Unfortunately, it wasn't as easy as other times, when she was doing nothing but trying to bite his head off. He hadn't expected an answer (one of the reasons a person will mutter, to be sure of the definition) but, unfortunately for him, he was going to get one.

"His name is Derek Martin and he's a Junior Year student at Viridian City Technical Institute. He's got a high paying job for the League, at the actual headquartars, but he always takes the weekends off to go stay with his family - apparently he's an only child and he doesn't want his parents to be lonely. In fact, the only reason he agreed to go out with me tonight is because he feels as though he'd finally be able to handle a stable romantic relationship of his own without being distracted by other matters in life, and that's something I respect about a person."

There was many a cruel thing Ash could have said about that last sentence of Misty's, but he decided to just go along with his conscience. . . and his conscience was saying that he should make a bitingly sarcastic comment about this Derek Martin character.

"Ah, VCTI. . . They've turned out so many wonderful trash collectors." He finished with a bark of laughter and Misty glared at him, her retellling of that wonderful night completely interrupted and ruined. Clearing his throat and hoping to avoid a good, well-rounded smack to the face, he tried to think of something else - something better - to say. . . Unfortunately, it seemed impossible. He couldn't understand why at all.

"And are you sure he didn't spend all night grooming his own ego? 'Cause it sounds to me like all you can talk about is _him _and _his _personality and _his _life." He joked but with an underlying tone of honesty.

"Well," Misty seemed slightly embarrassed suddenly, possibly at the truth of the matter, "he might have just been that great. . . You'll see, Ash Ketchum! After all, I'm going out with him again on Friday!" And she hopped up from the couch and stuck her tongue out at him. She would have already been walking up the staircase if he hadn't stopped her with a sweatdrop and an expression of disbelief.

"B - but. . . Tomorrow's Friday!" He said, almost in the form of a complaint. "I mean, c'mon, Myst. . . What's up with that?"

Surprisingly, this wasn't another thing for her to be embarrassed about. To the contrary, she looked positively giddy at the fact.

"Yeah, I know, and _he's _the one who invited _me _out again! Ah! I'm just so happy now!" She giggled like the teenager she once was, so easily love-struck.

Ash didn't want to care, really. And he hated that it seemed so hard for him to pull it off. . . Nevertheless, he did, and he dropped his gaze and said in as nonchalant a tone as he could muster:

"You should. . . You should try to act your age, Myst. After all, you're starting to sound an awful lot like May." It was an exasperated comment to make, but Misty didn't take it as such.

"Well, I should hope so. . . !" And when he looked up at her again, it was to see a new fire glowing in her eyes. As long as she'd been staying with him, Ash had rarely seen that in her. . . It reminded him of when they were kids, traveling together, and mostly on one of those days where some creep would come along and insult a Water Pokemon. . . Oh, how endearingly did Misty live to make those people regret it, because she was that fond of them. . . So was this the same?

"Don't look at me that way, Ash; I thought you knew! After all, I can't even count on my two hands the amount of times I've said I always wanted to have a love-life like May's and now. . . well. . . I may finally be getting there! Oh, but it is partially thanks to you I guess. . . so. . ." She leaned down and gave him a wholehearted hug which, while slightly apprehensive, Ash still returned. "You're such a good guy, and I'm sure you know it. . . Maybe too much for your own good, though, huh?" She said in need of a joke to lighten up the atmosphere that suddenly felt so thick and tense around them both. "Well. . . uh. . . see ya! I'm getting to bed early!" And she jumped the couch and jogged up the stairs two at a time, her lanky legs that she'd never grew completely into carrying her quite easily.

And, by himself in such a way that didn't seem all too entirely physical alone, Ash replied to himself. "Yeah, Myst. . . _Too _good. . . I know what you mean."

That whole evening had taken place maybe a week after Misty had decided to tell her sisters she was staying so. . . of course. . . two and a half months later. . .

She was not only on Cloud Nine; Misty was steering it wherever she dreamed to go. Her relationship with this Derek Martin only seemed to go from good to great to excellent to splendidly perfect, and it was all Ash could do not to become so bitter and crazed and - dare it be admitted? - jealous that he banged his head into the hardest surface he could find. Contunuously. As in never-ending.

It wasn't even only that. Misty also took advantage now of the bi-weekly meetings she and Ash, Brock, and May gathered to in such a way that it almost seemed she was trying to rub everyone's faces in it. She lead the conversations up until the point where Ash paid for an eclaire for her to eat, just so her mouth would be preoccupied and he could talk to the others for awhile.

May was happy for Misty, definitely. She was the type of person who could only wish that everyone had as good a life as she did with Drew, and that it had just so started to happen to her best friend? Well. . . there was no greater plus than that. However, she did think there was a limit to the bragging, and it seemed to be coming hard and fast, whether or not she was the only one to see it.

And she wasn't. As was blatantly obvious by Ash's continued glares of irritation and the fact that he always seemed to be drumming his fingers on the tabletop when they got together, just so his hand might not find itself somewhere less. . . innocent (in the sense of shutting Misty up). . . Brock, too, felt the grippings of insanity thanks to the redhead, and it was this, more than anything else, that finally shocked him into reaching level five of his rebooting program.

When asked about how he'd finally gotten so far, he managed to state witheringly that he'd finally learned what a real woman was like and had suddenly been faced with the epiphany that he'd never be able to handle one of his own. He was staring obviously and pityingly at Ash as he said so.

This was not to say, however, that Misty had become _obsessed _with her relatively new boyfriend. Sure, she was constantly smiling for reasons that Ash hadn't introduced, and she was always twirling around to some romantic tune that he couldn't have cared less for, and the one time that he'd allowed her to slice some vegetables up for the stir-fry Brock was teaching him to make, she'd been so ecstatically pleased and dream-like that she'd almost cut her finger off on accident, but. . . It was nothing, really. She was just. . .

To be perfectly honest, Misty was the most content she'd _ever _been in her life. This realization, above all else, was what caused Ash's downfall. It was that he couldn't be a part of it anymore, that Misty had found something that took her over, captured her, and prevented him from being that part of her life he'd always seen himself being, that made him finally give up trying.

Misty greeted him in the morning when they were both around and he returned it mechanically. She offered to cook - saying that she'd been paying close attention to the few lessons Ash had taken from Brock - and he didn't try and stop her. She told him she was going out and, whether or not it was with Derek, he simply waved her onward without a word.

And had Misty been even just the slightest bit interested in the reality she was abandoning, she would have noticed.

It wasn't until their next bi-weekly meeting with May and Brock, however, that it seemed like everyone had finally been stretched too thin.

"She's. . . what?" May asked, finding herself more confused and hurt than upset.

"She said she's sorry, but she couldn't come today; said something about an interview. . . which I doubt." Ash finished in a slightly vindictive murmur. A moment later, however, any bit of that malfunctioning personality had disappeared.

"B - but, why did you give her that choice? Ash, one of the good things about Misty staying with you was that she'd be able to see the rest of us more often!" Brock cried out, bringing up one of the blatantly valid points that Ash had already tried and failed to confront. "Look, interview or not, she could have come. It was simply a matter of rescheduling. . . Or. . . Ash, is this your fault? Have you been pushing her really hard - even unconsciously - to get a job of her own?" Brock asked as delicately as possible, but Ash seemed aggravated at the accusation either way.

"No, of course not! We've barely spoken in weeks! She's never around and. . . and. . . and when she is. . . it's impossible to get through to her anymore." Ash replied, sighing. "But she's happy, right? And that's one of the best things about this arrangement. I won't miss her if she doesn't want me to." It was such a heartfelt thing to say that he didn't even feel embarrassed about it.

The other two couldn't think, at first, of anything to say to that. It was not news to them that Ash was hurt by the fact that Misty seemed to be spending all of her free time with someone who wasn't him. And it wasn't even that, really; it was that she didn't seem to notice. After all that everyone - yes, including her - had tried to do to bring her back into their lives. . . she was going to up and go bail on it?

How much sense did it make?

"Yes you will, Ash." May stated quite suddenly and, while Ash had swiftly lifted his head to stare at her in need of more empathetic commentation, Brock continued to stare at his iced mocha with whip. "'Cause Misty is your best friend - has been since you were eleven years old - and you've already lost her once. Now that it seems she's leaving you of her own will, it feels even worse. . . but you're not helping it, are you? You're. . . you're just _letting _her walk out on you!"

"W - what? No!" He stated fiercely. There was no way anyone was going to try and pin this on him!

"Then where is she now?" Brock asked, adding his own two cents into the conversation.

"Uh, what? Um, no idea. . . She didn't specify when she left, just apologized and asked if I could say the same to you guys."

"And where was she yesterday while you were working? You didn't have Pikachu over, then." Brock continued.

"I. . . I don't know!"

"And the day before that? And the day before that? Where has she been while you've been trying not to have anything to do with her?"

"I don't know, okay?! And it's not my problem to. . . it's not my problem. . . I'm not her keeper." His tone had receded back to indoor level but he looked like he'd lost the will to fight back now, maybe because he'd just realized he'd already lost. And as he quoted what she'd said to him a couple weeks ago, the fire in his own eyes seemed to dampen further.

"No, you're not, are you?" May asked now, taking up where Brock had left off, "But you are her best friend, and her roommate, and the closest thing she has to family now that she's here and everything has been worked out for the time being. And if you don't see the difference you have in your relationship with her compared to ours, then maybe you deserve all the blame. Misty's no idiot, and she's not one to run off into some wierd fairytale lifestyle. . . but she is one to fake it, isn't she? And it's your job, as resident hero, best friend, roommate, closest possible thing to family, and boy-who's-always-been-there. . . well. . . it's just _your _job to find out why, moreso than it is ours. She may ignore you ninety percent of the time you speak. . . but she still listens to you as much as, if not more than, she listens to us."

"Ash, don't act like you haven't noticed that you're the most important person in her life anymore." Brock stated skeptically and when Ash looked up to glare at him incredelously, he sighed. "Okay, because you're Ash, I'll let you get away with that one. . . But now you know and you have no excuse that will matter to us."

Ash didn't say anything. In fact, for almost an entire minute, all he did was squint his eyes shut and breathe deeply as though he was trying not to start shouting angrily again about what they were accusing him of.

And then he suddenly edged out of his seat and stood stiffly, not even bothering to glance back in their directions.

"Hey, where are you going? If you think we're just gonna let you leave and act as though we haven't said a thing, then. . ." But Brock was cut off by Ash's rejuvenated smile.

"What are you talking about? Misty's been acting crazy for weeks and I haven't been the one to induce it. Of course I'm going to get to the bottom of this!" He gave a laugh and then winked as he shouldered his jacket and started walking backwards towards the door. "Then again, you both know what this means. . ."

"Yeah, yeah. . ." May sighed, remnants of scattered relief and irritation on her face as she massaged her temples. "I'll pick up the bill."

She blinked after recognizing her headache was not going to disappear and looked up.

Ash was already gone.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Notes **- Hiya! I told myself beyond a doubt that I'd be finished with this chapter by today, and look! It's almost three in the morning and, rather than sleeping or rehydrating myself for the first time in eight hours, look what I'm doing for you guys! You're all just so lucky. :D

Anyway, I hope I did okay this time around. At first, I wasn't even going to include the chat between Misty and her sister(s) but then I kept wondering about closure on the matter and it seemed like it was deserving of it, so I had to. . . And as for Misty's attitude needing adjustment, you'll just have to find out why she's acting so crazy next time around! Hah hah!

(Actually, this whole thing with Mr. Derek Martin - kudos to you, Ash! - was supposed to fit all into this chapter, but I stretched out the second half long enough to extend into the next because I seemed. . . worrisome. . . to enact the "perfect" relationship and, er, finish this "saga" all in half a chap. So there we are. But the next one - oh! - you guys will love it, believe me. It's one of those few parts that I've been looking forward to writing since I thought up the very idea for it. . . and that was. . . two and a half years ago.)

Also, to be safe, someone happened to mention something suspicious in their review for the last chapter posted. Something about it was the last chapter all-together. . . and I just wanted to be sure you all knew that wasn't the case - not even close! Lol. Don't worry, the rating plays a key effect in this fic, and I've got a lot more. . . er. . . confrontations for Ash and Misty to make about, towards, and alongside each other, so there's no way I can end it here! Or. . . there, if we're counting last chapter.

So, anyway, all reviews make Chibi's imagination (what little bit is left) shine brighter and brighter, so. . . review! And be sure to state how much you all love me for sitting up as much as possible on this chapter, even after just coming out of surgery a few weeks ago. (So, in other words, I feel loads better now, but awhile back, when I started writing this thing. . . Whew!) Can't you just tell how much I appreciate you all? Hah! Heh.

**Spoiler **- (Just realized I haven't done one of these in a couple chapters. . . Though, I daresay, they probably haven't been missed so much.) Ash runs home to search for Misty and confront her about how she's been acting, and - surprisingly - finds her sitting on his couch, almost reduced to tears. What's going on with her now? And, even after it's settled down, she still admits that the relationship she's in now is far better than anything she's ever had before, and so she's happy. . . but will that happiness last? Or will Ash have to be the one to put the smile back on her face? And, if so, how will Misty thank him for it?


	9. That You Know What You Want

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes **- I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Nine **- "That You Know What You Want"

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **March **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially started **January 17th, 2008.**

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**Tick**. _Tock_.

It's been said that an hourglass is the perfect visual depiction of time as it stands, as it moves forward. The sand that has fallen already is the past, the sand currently escaping to the bottom of the device is the present, and the sand waiting its turn to fall is the future.

And each grain of sand is a moment of joy, of fear, of anger, of sadness. . . a moment of your individual life. Every grain hits the bottom of the hourglass one at a time, except for under special circumstances. You never know it until the time passes where you realize just who is most important to you because two grains or more falling at once means that your time has been intertwined with someone elses, and it can only happen if that person means more to you than anyone else.

Then again, it is only a theory with no way to prove it true or false. But beliefs are beliefs and they are hard to defer because, for those, a person needs faith as well. And faith keeps you from ever giving up a belief; it would be a part of you already.

Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town had crossed paths with many people, made many allies and enemies - some who knew him better than his own family. However it would be wrong to turn a head and assume that all of these people meant enough to him to earn a chance to become a grain in his hourglass. Not even Misty had reached that plateau yet, but she wasn't discouraged, seeing as she had never learned of such a theory.

A person whose grains of sand - whose time - would join with his. . . it would mean that they were inseperable, and in the literal sense of the word. Because once your time is brought together with that of another individual, and your hourglasses have meshed (even if only slightly). . . you had no choice in the matter but to remain with them for eternity; the kind of eternity with moment after moment of joy, fear, anger, and sadness.

And though Misty Waterflower had not gained that wondrous position yet, Ash couldn't help feeling more attatched to her now than most other times he'd been alone with her. A womans' tears were beautiful. Maybe that was why Brock left so many women to cry in fear of him; because a woman crying out about her greatest worries and fears and rejections. . . was an artistic masterpiece. Or so Ash thought as he stared down at Misty sitting on his couch, suddenly trying very hard to hide her face behind one of his cushions so that he might not see.

All he could do was stare; he couldn't help it. Misty had a look that said she definitely didn't want to be seen, that she was wallowing in her miseries, that the fact that he was watching her made her feel more than uncomfortable - it was like she was on display.

"S - sorry. . ." Ash finally stated with a grunt, although he wasn't sure what he was sorry for. All he knew was that his best friend was glaring at him in a threatening way and he suddenly felt as though he were the bad guy. And Ash Ketchum hated more than anything to be the bad guy. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all; why do you keep looking at me? You're making me feel wierd, like I wanna hit you really hard to make you stop." She dropped her gaze from him in order to stare interestingly at her toes. Ash stared at them for a moment, too, until he realized that there was nothing very entertaining about them.

"Sorry," he repeated, stepping over her and taking a seat on his couch. He laid back in a lazy way and waited for a few seconds before saying anything else. Misty wasn't sure if this was because he was waiting for her to make the first move towards conversation or because he simply didn't know what to say; both were rather Ash-like possibilities.

Misty didn't want to talk, to be fairly blunt. She'd done enough talking, especially with Ash, for the rest of the week. Plus she didn't want to feel anymore stupid than she already did. Anything she had to say would be utterly repetitive by now and she didn't want to be laughed at.

"Is it my fault? Does it smell that bad in here?" Contrary to five minutes ago, when Ash had first walked in and been completely blown away by her appearance, he sounded like he hadn't been fazed at all now. He gave a very low chuckle at his own joke, as though it were more for her benefit than his.

Misty was finally looking at him again, but she was frowning disappointedly. Apparently he wasn't that funny.

"Oh, hah hah. No, Ash, this time it has nothing to do with you. . . so maybe it's time for you to finally butt out! 'Cause you always say something great to lift me up and then somehow, I get torn down again. . . So let me be angry and hurt in peace."

"Angry at me? Hurt by me? What'd I do this time?"

The question left the air thick around them and Ash was sure for a moment that Misty was refusing to answer. It especially seemed like it when she suddenly reached her feet and brushed past him, knocking his heels from the coffee table where he'd spread them out lazily before and walking towards the kitchen.

And then she stopped at the video phone and picked up the receiver.

"Hey, wait! You can be mad all ya want, Myst, but that's just wrong to go and start making a call when we're talking! I mean, even ignoring me shouldn't include doing something like that!"

"Idiot! Ignoring you means going about daily life activities inspite of your disturbance, doesn't it? Still. . . that's not what I'm doing."

It was out of pure curiosity that Ash also rose from his seat on the couch and joined her by the phone. She was dialing a familiar number now that he could see the keys she was pressing, but it only confused him more.

"Wait. . . why are you calling the voicemail?" He asked, but she simply pressed the speakerphone button and slammed the receiver back down.

_"Main menu; to hear new messages, press one. To hear saved messages, press two. To hear your automated message, press three. To change your automated message, press four. To repeat menu options, press five."_ A female tone sounded electronically from the monitor. Misty grunted begrudgingly, awkwardly finding her way to the number two button and pressing it.

As far as Ash could remember, he'd not saved anything for a year or so now. . .

"Misty, this is - like - Lily! Daisy said something totally strange earlier today and I just wanted to make sure it was a joke so I'm calling you to verify it. . . Misty? C'mon little sister, I know you're there; you have nothing better to be doing, right?" A slightly familiar tone of voice rambled on over the machine. "Well, whatever. . . Just - like - make sure you call me ASAP!" There was a beep and a new message began playing.

"Misty, it's Lily again; I'm getting ready to go to work but I thought I'd - like - try and see if you were there to take this call. . . I mean, you do know it's been almost two weeks since we talked, right? And you still have to come home. Look," there was an exasperated sigh before the woman moved on, "the boss said he'll keep your job open to you for another four days but, after that, he's gonna have to give up the hours to another employee. . . Little sister, you've totally gotta take your shifts back! We - like - can't afford to let you let them go!"

Another click, a timestamp, and a new voice took over.

"Misty, this is Violet. Daisy said it's not a joke, no matter how much we laugh about it. She keeps trying to take the phone from us, though, so we can't help thinking that she doesn't want us to talk to you and find out the truth. There is another story to this, right? You'll be back soon, won't you? Just make sure you - like - prove Daisy wrong and act the responsible one; I. . . _we_. . . know you're capable of it."

Another click.

"Misty! C'mon, it's not funny anymore! We're getting tired of your games and we expect you home by the end of the week! Remember, your shifts are almost gone!"

Beep.

"Misty! Stop - like - playing and answer the phone! I'm tired of you avoiding us!" Lily's voice was clearly unsatisfied by the fact that none of her messages had been returned.

"Yeah, Lily and I have suddenly been told we need to pay to live in _our _Gym! Daisy said that it's not her fault, which means it wasn't her idea - it was yours, wasn't it?"

"How could you stab us in the back like that, huh? Like, you need to come back and help us pay this debt off, and then you need to set Miss-Blonde-Head-Case Daisy right! She's on a total freakshow-patrol and won't let us touch the Pokemon unless we're taking 'em to the Center!"

"If you don't answer us by the end of the day, we're gonna. . . we're gonna. . . um. . ." Violet's tone was suddenly unsure and Lily picked it up in her place.

"We're - like - totally gonna come to Pallet and pick you up ourselves!"

"Yea, so take responsibility for yourself and get your own butt back down here so we don't end up spending all of _our _hard-earned cash on _you_!"

Beep.

"Misty, we mean it--"

Beep.

"We're not kidding, little sister! Your stubborn personality is driving us crazy--"

Beep.

_"End of messages." _The automated woman's tone said and even Ash drew in a deep breath.

"Whew, I thought they'd never give up. . ."

"They haven't yet. Those last three messages were from today alone. They. . . they just won't let me go! UGH!"

"So. . . what's the problem? I thought this whole thing was settled already." Ash shrugged and watched Misty for a reaction. Unlike what he'd been hoping for (although he didn't really know what that was either), she only sniffled and drew her hands into fists out of frustration.

"I - it was supposed to be! But, as it turns out, Daisy doesn't really know how to handle Lily and Violet any better than I do and she can't stop them from making calls, even if those calls are to harass me! I was ignoring them at first but then. . . they've been trying almost two times a day! I can't keep pretending like I'm not here, I can't keep acting like I'm not getting the messages, and I won't keep avoiding them!" She screamed out in rage, almost pounding a fist into the wall beside her. "But. . . but. . . I don't know what else to do. Daisy tried to stop this from happening, she tried to derail the stress I would feel when telling them but. . . they would still have their own questions and worries, and those can only be answered by me. . . right?" She looked up at Ash and sighed dejectedly again.

"Misty, how old are you?"

"What? You never ask a woman that question!"

"No, really, humor me here," Ash coughed once, twice, and waited for her glare to subside.

"Twenty-four years old. . ." She gave in, praying for his death in the same breath.

"Right, you're an adult, aren't you?"

"More than you'll ever be."

"Hm, ignoring that. . . you know how to deal with life, don't you? And you know when a situation has ended on your part, right?"

"Well, I. . . maybe. . . But does it really sound like it's over?"

"This is a bad joke, isn't it?" Ash laughed and picked up the receiver again, dialed his voicemail, and waited for the main menu to start up again before pressing the number two button.

"W - what are you doing. . . ?"

"Oh, nothing. . . just deleting these messages that mean absolutely nothing for you now."

"Wait, what? Those are mine! Stop!" She tried to reach out and pull him away from pressing the numerical delete button, but he practically slapped her hand away.

"You already talked to Daisy and set up your longterm stay here; this, therefore, makes you my roomate and your other sisters, no matter how hopeful they may be in wait for your nonexistant return to Cerulean, have no reason to be calling you like they are. But you're the real surprise in this, aren't you, Myst?" He asked, laughing in a sarcastic way under his breath.

"Wh - what's _that _supposed to mean?" Misty crossed her arms, now more aggravated than upset in any other form.

"Why are you keeping these stupid things?" He asked while nodding to the terminal in front of him as he finally deleted the fifth message.

"I. . . I don't know. . . but they're _mine_, from _my _relatives, and I'm _still _wondering why you're getting rid of them!"

"Because you don't need them, because your part in this issue ended after you finished your conversation with Daisy awhile ago, because you're only keeping these stupid - pointless - things to make yourself feel guiltier about leaving your sisters behind!"

"And just why the hell am I not supposed to feel guilty?!" She shrieked as loudly as possible, finally ending the climax to their argument. Ash suddenly looked pleased as he finished with the last of the messages and then looked up at her in a way that said he'd clearly won.

"You're allowed to feel as guilty as you want, Myst; I obviously can't stop you, can I?" He asked, first eyeing her and then eyeing his phone. "But you're being stupid about it. You're being immature and you're acting like you're anchored to this problem that you've already faced awhile ago and should have gotten past by now."

"But. . . just because I've done what I thought was right doesn't mean that. . . they're voices won't hurt me; it doesn't mean that their words don't cut me. . ."

"You're a good person."

"I know that!" The redhead snarled in a way that said she dared him to keep going trying to make her feel better.

"You're smart and reliable, and responsible despite what they say."

"I - I know that, too! Why are you telling me these things now?!" She stomped her foot and glared at him but found time to hide the red that was gracing her feminine features.

"Because you must not have ever heard them enough."

"Huh? Look," she started, looking down and burning a hole in the carpet, "just because my sisters haven't treated me right doesn't mean I don't know how good a person I am! And the last person I want telling me these things is the one who told me the exact opposite for most of the four years we traveled together!"

"Oh, so now it's come down to us and how we've gotten along together since we were teenagers, huh? Well, ignoring the fact that an argument can't be fully conducted by one person," and Ash looked her up and down before continuing, "I'll move on. I won't apologize. It's in my blood, something that says I'm not allowed. But I can tell you honestly that, after the first few weeks of your annoying, girly voice and your bug issues and your obsession with getting that dumb bike back, I sorta got used to you. I might have even started to like you."

Misty blinked at him as though waiting for him to continue. She was red still, but it almost looked as though she were about to burst out into laughter.

"Okay. . . fine," he shrugged with a sigh, "I thought you were really cool when you battled people like Giselle, even when you lost. You took it hard, exactly like someone who was trying their hardest should; and you moved on, exactly like someone so serious about their dreams should. I thought you were responsible, making sure Brock didn't get deported from the country because of the thousands of sexual harassment claims he retained, and you kept me from dying a few times, didn't you? And you were smart when solving Blaine's riddles and pr - er, you weren't half-bad looking during times like the End of Summer Festival at Maidens' Peak." He coughed again and pretended to wipe his brow dry though there had really been nothing there. He'd only been trying to hide the blush from his cheeks.

"You know," he continued, looking up at her again, face clear, "you can stop me anytime you want."

"Eh, I know, but I'm kinda liking this. You always were slow on the uptake, Ash." She said, prodding him in the chest. "Even in Viridian, before I left, you waited until the last moment to say anything nice to me. . . Why else do you think I had such trouble accepting the fact that I had to go? It seemed incomplete, somehow, to leave on those terms we had to face. . ." She stared riminiscently at the place just above one of his shoulders, as though she wasn't really seeing it, and then jumped back to reality at the sound of his next cough.

"Well, whatever; I guess I can get over it all a little easier now. . . So, you'll be saying these things to me everyday from now on, right?" She asked with a laugh before jogging up the stairs.

Ash blinked, comprehending about twenty seconds later that, even though she was running away from him, she might have been expecting an answer to that.

"Er, no, probably not. . ."

"Well, it's a good thing I recorded it all, then!" She yelled back towards him, before shutting the door to her room, leaving Ash to only hope that it was a joke.

She was pretty good by now at those awful ones. . .

After the matter was finally, _finally _closed, Misty chose not to save or respond to her sisters calls. They did not see fit to travel out to Pallet Town to drag her back to Cerulean themselves, and Ash and Misty were sure that Daisy had put her foot down in order to prevent that.

Ash now had the time to face his own epiphany, however. It was one he wouldn't dare be telling anyone anytime soon. Ever since the day he'd walked in on Misty in tears, it had hit him full-force, something that he suddenly found himself unable to deny, and he was worried about what it would lead to.

Falling for his best friend had come as a bit of a shock. . . Okay, it had been something that had almost made him fall back in collapse. Nevertheless, it wasn't as scary as it could have been, and it was almost familiar somehow. . . Almost like he'd been placed in this same type of predicament years and years ago. Maybe he hadn't realized it at the time; he was never any genius, after all. But now it seemed so obvious and _simple_. . .

You know, except for the fact that it wasn't so simple.

Misty was through with her sisters and had turned her attentions onto some more job prospects. Knowing that money wouldn't be much of a problem in general, she'd started looking for employment in Viridian, too, making sure that she left Tuesday afternoons open in case of any bi-weekly meetings. She didn't depend on Ash to relay messages and, instead, apologized to Brock and May as personally as possible over the phone, and they forgave her, also trying to catch glimpses of Ash over her shoulder to applaud his successful efforts in getting her to talk.

Ash, though. . . decided there were many other places he'd rather be. If nothing else, he found it almost impossible to look Misty in the eyes, especially when she tried to ask him if he was okay. Women must have been equipped with something men had missed altogether, he knew; considering he couldn't help but almost spill his guts to her at the suggestion.

Even worse - and possibly the one thing that ensured Ash keep his silence - was the fact that Misty's relationship with that Derek Martin was steadily becoming more and more serious. She disappeared once a week or so, overnight, and came back the next morning with a glow that he couldn't question. If nothing else, he didn't want to know what it was from. . . He had a feeling that it had nothing to do with helping the guy study for any exams. (Unless they happened to be on human anatomy.)

Misty kept her promise to May and Brock to not miss anymore of their meetings, but now her conversations with them all had been recessed to the same things she'd been saying for months, minus the intelligence of a twenty-four year old womans' calibur.

Ash didn't feel like banging his head against the hardest thing he could find was the right way to go this time, and he didn't think it would have any effect. He noticed his other friends' odd expressions as they stared him down out of the corners of their eyes, probably asking themselves the prayers he must have been chanting under his breath to maintain his saintlyhood.

Life at home seemed easier to handle, though. Ash and Misty were on the same footing again but that didn't mean they were around each other anymore than they had been before. Misty was busy trying to make up for not having a job just yet by accepting three or so interviews a week (depending on the availability on the companies parts), completing the chores that Ash couldn't be bothered with in between _his _work (not to mention he just didn't like them), the grocery shopping - only after a list was made and Ash had placed little stars next to the necessities. She also kept herself pampered in case she ran into Derek while she was out and - for whatever reason Ash couldn't understand - even when she was simply lounging or working around the house. Apparently she thought that her boyfriend would be able to hear it in her voice just how dirty or dusty she was if he happened to call.

Nevertheless, Ash found it easy to cope; or, at least it was bearable. He felt less than happy when he ended up seeing her sneaking out of the house looking picture perfect, but he knew it would be worse if his best friend knew he was dealing with these feelings in the sense that it would make everything that much more awkward. Because he didn't like the thought of that, he found himself picking up more free-lance jobs and losing more sleep. Oh, well; sleep was for people with no lives or expectations anyway.

It was early evening time when he just so happened to be coming back from one of those new jobs and he ran into Misty at the foyer. She was slipping on her Autumn jacket, but she looked eagerly up at Ash as he entered and stared at her.

"So, what do ya think? How do I look?" She asked, holding the buttons apart so that he could see the dress underneath. I was a cloth material, skin-tight, white with bright blue seams of crossing straps along her shoulders. It slipped down her breasts and stomach, waist and thighs in the most delicate way a dress could.

Ash stared. He felt his mouth opening but the action was something that took place before he could mentally establish he was supposed to actually say something, so he just gawked a few times before closing it again. All he could think was that, no matter how great this Derek Martin guy was, the effort Misty was putting into herself and her relationship with him was a waste. Surely he - Ash - would be far better suited for it? Hadn't Misty ever thought of how this whole situation would make _him _feel as a man?

. . . Of course not, because he wasn't really a man to her; just the best friend that was always there to make her day a little better, or worse, or. . . just exciting in some form.

"That means it's good, right? Good enough?" And without waiting for an answer, she began buttoning up her coat, sighing. Maybe she didn't think his opinion would mean much. Maybe she'd pulled that act a few seconds ago just to show off and make him feel miserable. Maybe Ash was just really, really tired now from all the work he'd been doing to keep himself busy and it was all finally catching up with him. No matter what the real reason for it was, though, Misty didn't wait for an answer. "Well, I hope so anyway. Derek and I are going out again tonight. You realize it's been almost five months since we first started dating each other?" She ended in a squeal, the only thing keeping her from literally jumping up in the air being the heels that she would surely slip on if she tried.

"Oh, really?" Five months. Five months since he'd told her he wanted her to stay there in his house with him - even if not in so many words - and five months since that lonely feeling he'd always felt when entering the old Ketchum home had started to disperse; slowly but surely. Three months since Misty had begun pulling herself away from him physically while Ash could only feel like his heart was being dragged along in the dirt of her wake. "Is this an anniversary of some weird, girlish sort, then?" He joked, and she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Yeah, right; I wish! Oh, but I have other good news!" Misty turned and walked as fast as she could while maintaining her grace, and Ash stood where he was, not sure if that meant he was supposed to follow after her. "I think I found something really good!" She shouted from the dining room, and his brow furrowed in confusion. She must have thought that he automatically knew what she meant, though, because she didn't elaborate.

"It's closeby and pays well, and it's in a very familiar environment!" She laughed again in a truimphant way as she reentered the area beside the front door, her left hand holding her purse to her shoulder and her right grasping a newspaper that had not been there before, he knew. Oh, she must have meant a job opportunity.

Misty grinned widely, stepping up in front of him and flipping through a few pages to find the right ad circled in red ink, but the next thing both of them knew, there was a horn sounding and she lost perspective.

"Ah! It's him, right on time!" She giggled flirtatiously and curled the ad back up in her hands before stuffing it into her bag. "I'd leave it here, but I wanted it to be a sort of surprise. It's kinda cool to think I could be working there of all places! Either way, I've set up an interview for the end of the week, and maybe when I get back tonight, I'll give you a couple clues so you can try and guess where it is!" She winked at him and breathed deeply after saying all of this in one breath, almost leaping at the door in her haste to throw it open again.

This was just in time for a dark-haired man to stand there, almost going rigid at the sudden action taking place from inside the home. It was Derek, and he smiled kindly at Ash as Misty walked out with him, both of them heading towards the car he owned.

"Ash, I'll see ya later! We're going out to eat at that Italian place downtown in the Square! I'm thinking I'll be back around eight, okay? So be expecting me! Then I can tell ya the news!" She stated in the most pleased way she could muster, Derek opened the passenger-side door for her to get in, closed it behind her, and she and Ash exchanged waves of farewell from where they held their positions.

He watched the two drive off before turning his back on the front yard, overenthusiastically slamming the door shut behind him. Okay, he may have been lying before; he might have been slightly resentful towards Derek - or even the fact that Misty's life was going so well with a guy who wasn't him in general. She acted like she didn't know, but it looked as though things were going really well for her. It was good in a way that said she might just be replacing him with this guy. She might just be moving out with this guy. She might just be falling in love with this guy.

Throwing the duffel bag of tools he always carried around with him for work onto the dining room table, he turned back the way he'd come and made sure he had his keys before walking back out. It'd been awhile since he'd let Pikachu come him, and even longer since the two had shared some valuable best-buddies time together.

The walk to the Oak Preserve was not long, probably close to ten or fifteen minutes. Still, had it been much colder, he might have chosen to leave the visit until some later date, possibly sometime when the temperature didn't include winter-weather-warnings.

He rung the doorbell and waited for Tracey to buzz him in. They greeted each other with familiarity and smiles that only age-old friends can honestly share with one another and Ash found himself glancing side to side at the lobby of the lab.

"So. . . where's the Professor?" He asked, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer.

"He had no appointments or interviews scheduled, and his experiments and things were caught up, so he decided to take a personal day. He doesn't get many of them now since I've become his part-time assistant. I'm working on my next book, you know?" Tracey said, sighing with an extra ounce of regret. Ash nodded and mentally wished his stepfather well. He didn't dare think farther into the matter than that, though, because thinking more on that man's free day meant thinking on what he was doing during this extra time. . . and if that extra time included his mom. . .

UGH. No. . . !

"I was even thinking of quitting, actually. . ." Tracey said under his breath, looking at Ash from the corner of his eye as though waiting to hear the younger man's opinion on such a thought.

". . . Really? Why would you do that?" Before Tracey could answer, though, Ash automatically responded, "For your books, right? Well. . . I mean, I wouldn't like the thought of the Professor having to devote even more of his years to the profession. . . but I can see why you'd wanna go and really begin to focus on your own dreams. . ."

Tracey smiled. Maybe someone saying that he wasn't doing the wrong thing was exactly what he needed to hear. Ash supposed that Misty couldn't have been the only person in the world hoping to have her options backed up by someone else she depended on.

"It's a shame about your dreams, though. . ." Tracey cleared his throat and Ash's eyes snapped back open. He didn't want to look up at the older gentleman and the Pokemon Watcher seemed to realize such a thing because he immediately withdrew the comment. "Uh, sorry. . . It just slipped. Er, anyway, you wanted to see Pikachu, right?"

The two men walked to the back of the lobby, starting on the narrow, circular staircase leading to the second, third, and fourth floors. They passed the doors leading to chemistry and biology labs and ignored the door labeled with Starter Pokemon names and options, finding themselves on the third floor and facing the Nursary.

"Pikachu sure gets a lot of experience in parenthood while she's here," Tracey joked, cautiously opening the door to refrain from spooking the young monsters. "It must have been all of that training with Togepi, though, that set her up for this. Now I'm just beginning to think her mothering instinct is kicking in."

The two entered and edged around the many small beds, some of which held eggs and others that held newborns. Some of the Pokemon slept together innocently, and others were still up and playing around, grabbing one anothers' tails or else shooting out sparks of fire or lightning or jets of water, all of which entered the air only about four inches before them.

"Er, aren't you worried that they'll catch the place on fire?" Ash asked, making sure to steer clear of even the slightest flame that could make his coat burst into flames.

"Ash, this is a professional establishment. We're sure to include non-flammable materials with the stable environment we secure for children. I thought that would have been obvious?" Tracey quirked an eyebrow and Ash ignored the underlying tone of distaste as the two of them finally found the particular basket they'd been looking for.

"Oh, no. . . Will I be able to get her out?" The raven-haired young man placed a hand awkwardly behind his neck. They stared down at the fluffy basket and sweatdropped at the acknowledgement that Pikachu was barely able to move while laying there, let alone escape the four or so child-like Pokemon who had grabbed a fierce hold of her tail or legs or ears in order to make sure she couldn't escape them.

Pikachu, too, seemed to be snoozing peacefully, but she was a very light sleeper and - at the very familiar sound of her Master's voice - her eyes eased open and she perked her head up.

"Pika. . . ? Pikapi!" She exclaimed, forgetting momentarily that she was being almost forcibly held down and leaping up with all of the strength of her hind legs.

The Azuril, Pichu, Torchic, and Igglybuff that had been holding so dearly onto her fell back and rolled onto their bottoms, beginning to break out into tears at the loss of their comfort-pillow.

"Ah, oh no!" Tracey said, leaping forward and picking up two of them, rocking them in his arms and humming softly. The sound was enough to ease them into quiet, and Ash followed suit, grabbing up the other two so that their cries wouldn't wake the others up again, shaking them around softly with an awkward grip.

It wasn't long until the quiet was restored. Ash signed out on a sheet by the front door and wished his friend a good night before taking Pikachu up onto his shoulder and beginning the trek back towards his house.

He entered the kitchen foyer area and allowed his Pokemon to jump from his arms onto the dining room table, and then hurriedly onto the floor. It must have been a girl-thing, even among Pokemon, that said that animals weren't supposed to be up on the tables or countertops.

Ash turned and took a moment to find the time glowing digitally on his microwave, locking the two locks on the door he'd entered from.

"So, Pikachu, it's six-thirty. It looks like it's just us for tonight, until Misty gets back, anyway." He and his buddy looked up at each other and he continued to ask, "Hm, what should we do? Other than pig out like guys do when they're on their own. . ." Pikachu glared threateningly up at him and growled, her cheeks sparking, "I'm kidding, okay? Man, your sense of humor needs to be more asexual, ya know?"

"Pika. Pi chu pikachu."

"I'm not kidding; how hard is it to think like me? You know, if the topic were how much ketchup you'd be guzzling down, there wouldn't even be any argument."

"Pi. . . ka! Chu chu ka pika?" She asked, turning her back on him and entering the living room, hopping up onto the couch and waving her tail at him almost commanding.

"Huh? You really want it now, huh? Well, lucky for you Misty figured you'd be by. When she did the shopping this week, she bought the industrial-size eighty ounce bottle." And he went to the fridge to retrieve it.

By the time he'd found his spot besides his buddy on the couch, she had already flipped the television channels to find something she liked, stopping on a Spanish soap opera.

". . . Y - you're kidding, right? This isn't only chic-flic-ish, it's Spanish chic-flic-ish!" He slapped a hand to his forehead and tried to grab the remote from her, but she fought back with a claw and a thundrous threat (literally), so he withdrew his hand and sighed dejectedly, until. . .

"Hey, Pikachu, I'll trade you the remote for. . . for this ketchup? They're both mine, bought with my money, so it should be an entirely fair trade on your part!"

Pikachu still didn't like the sound of that, though, so she sat back on her hind-legs and reared her temper to jump him and grab her precious ketchup for herself.

Needless to say, Ash learned a couple very valuable lessons that night, but he didn't dwell on the pain he felt while learning those. On the other hand, he also realized that even by replacing Misty's almost nonexistent presence with that of his favorite Poke-friend, that weird empty feeling still existed, and it only seemed to spread farther the more he sat there and glanced almost longingly towards the clock on the wall above the archway leading to the kitchen.

Pikachu was on her fourth Spanish soap opera and was so drunk on her favorite food that she was trying to quote the lines of the overly-dramatic characters in the show. Ash was drumming the fingers on his right hand against the armrest of the couch and steadily gazing at the clock.

It read 8:01pm.

A certain, almost hopeful, part of him thought immediately that something was wrong. Why, he wasn't sure. Misty had never specified that she'd be back by eight, only that that was the approximate timeframe. Even so, if that date had gone well-enough, he knew not to expect her back at all, but. . . but she would still call if something like that happened, right? She was never this irresponsible; especially when she, herself, offered a curfew.

Still, Ash didn't panic just yet. If nothing else, he was only hoping she'd walk in, pissed off but otherwise fine, and she'd walk up to him and say that she'd punched the shit out of her date and that he was an ass and that that obvious fact had suddenly hit her and she'd learned to deal with it. Even so, the thought of that scenerio running around in his head was even more of a hint that he was a little out of it.

8:11pm.

Still nothing to worry about, honestly. She was running a bit late. There was probably some traffic on the road, or she'd gotten caught up in the ladies room after the meal, primping herself as much as possible to make sure that the goodnight phase went just as well as the supper one.

8:23pm.

. . . God, that must have been some heavy-assed traffic they were driving through. . .

8:24pm.

Oh, c'mon! She was the one who said she'd be back around that certain time! There was definitely reason to worry, now! No calls, no messages, no news at all that said there was an explanation for her being almost a half-an-hour late. . . !

8:26pm.

That's it, he took it back. He must have been out of his mind telling her she was an uber-responsible person despite her sisters attempts to make her think otherwise. Unbelievable, he made one compliment and it must have gone straight to her head! Why else wouldn't she take the right road and at least call if she was going to be getting her brains fucked out by that stupid, dumb-assed, son of a. . .

"**Ring ring ring**! **Phonecall**! **Phonecall**! **Ring ring ring**! **Phonecall**! **Phonecall**!"

Ash jumped, hurriedly reaching his feet and almost bullrushing the phone, thinking it must have been her calling to scream at him because she could feel his negative vibes from all the way across town.

No such luck.

"Hello? Er, Ketchum and Waterflower residence."

"Yeah, Ash; I would hope this is your number, considering I've been calling it almost constantly for the past eight years." Brock's voice replied jokingly from the other line and Ash sighed disappointedly. Maybe he shouldn't have hoped so much that it would be her calling the curse him out. . .

"Oh, hey Brock. . . To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked despondently, his head facing the keyboard of the phone, not even thinking of turning the monitor on in order to see his friend.

"Oh, nothing really. It was weird, though; here I was, sitting in my shop after hours, restocking and taking inventory, and then I got this sudden chill, and something was yelling at me to call you. But you sound miserable so maybe it wasn't just a feeling. . . What's wrong?"

"N - nothing!" The raven-haired young man tried to avoid the topic of his best friend who had had an obvious -_thing_!- for and how she was currently out with a guy whose head he'd like to rip off, but apparently Brock's ESP didn't stop at only the feelings of call-making.

"You've gotta be the worst liar I've ever met! I'm not even looking at you and I can tell you're about ready to punch a hole in your wall. And you'd better not because I'm not coming over to plaster it up."

"That's fine. If I do, I can just take care of it on my own, or don't you remember the work I do?" Ash asked, but it only caused his older friend to laugh truimphantly.

"Hah hah! I knew it! Now tell me why you'd want to punch a hole in the wall and plaster it up. . . ?" He eased briskly into the topic in a way that said he had almost completely mastered weazling answers out of companions.

". . . It's no one's business except mine. And Misty's. And. . . maybe her. . . boyfriend. . ."

"What's the matter? Did he threaten you?"

"No. . ."

"Did he threaten your Pokemon?"

"No."

"Did he threaten Misty?"

"No, and he'd better not! _Ever_! I'll kill the bastard if he does!" Ash exclaimed, turning red afterwards. There was no way that Brock wouldn't know by now. . .

"Wow, points for lack of subtlety." The older man noted in a guru-like tone of voice. "Do you have any other secrets you'd like to spill? 'Cause if none of that has happened, that still leaves you upset without a cause. So what is it?"

"I - it's not a secret, okay? I'm just a little freaked out. Misty said she'd be back around 8:00pm and it's. . ." Ash took a moment to glance up at the clock a good few meters above him but Brock beat him to it.

". . . It's only 8:34pm. . ." He stated in a way that said he couldn't believe what he - himself - was saying, "God, what's your malfunction? The girls' only been gone a few minutes longer than necessary, and so what if she ran over the timeframe she gave you? She's twenty-four years old, isn't she? She only gave you that time for your benefit, I'm thinking, so you've got no reason to be tanking on her for running late!"

"I - I know that, and I've kept telling myself that for the past twenty minutes or so, but you haven't lived with her like I have; Misty's a punctual freak! She's not the type to run almost an hour later than she planned - an hour later than she told someone who expected her by a certain time - and not call that person to let them know! A - and I know it's not my business, but you're right. . . It was for my benefit, I'm sure. . . so is this for me, too? This bad timing? Because I'm not sure how to react to it."

"Well, I can't tell you. Do you really think her punctuality is important to her? That, because she's running so late, there must really been a problem? Or are you just hoping for one? Because it sounds to my like you're looking for any excuse in the world that will allow you to punch the crap and spine out of this guy she's been dating. . ."

"Well. . . I mean, there's. . ."

"It's not that hard to answer the question. Do you think there's really a problem here, Ash? Or are you just being an idiot, jealous over something you can't help or control?" It was at this point that the professional breeder took a moment to break out into a light fit of laughter, "Hah! I - I just realized. . . Hah, Ash, you're so slow on the uptake!"

"W - what? That's what Misty said awhile ago. . ." He stated, thinking back on it but not much farther than to simply scratch the surface of the memory. "Still. . . if I were to be honest here and state my utmost confident of opinions, then I'd say. . . I really do think there's a problem. I know Misty, despite the few years we were separated from each other for. You can't learn to know someone much better than what you figure about them after living in the same house as that person for half a year. She'd have called by now, even if only to tell me that she's not coming home, or that she's sorry and running late. . . but she hasn't yet."

"Ash, it's 8:42pm." Brock said and Ash almost felt the need to look at his friend, unsure of the tone he was using in reminding him of the time.

"Yeah, so?"

"So. . . if you think there's a problem, then what are you still doing home?"

Ash hung up the phone without saying goodbye, wishing Pikachu well as he threw his coat back on and grabbing his keys from the kitchen table, running out the door. He didn't need telling twice, or reminding, or scolding on the matter anymore.

Misty had told him more than once that her dating anybody was her business. If it didn't actually interfere with his life, he had no reason to oppose her in her decision-making. But she had offered the information to him that night, and practically suggested that he wait up for her so that she could tell him of the news she'd been hoping to mention before leaving for her date. It was even more of a reason to think that something was wrong. . . She'd just been so excited. . . What had caused her to forget about that?

At least she'd mentioned the place she was going to eat with Derek, and he figured, like any other genius detective, that the last place he knew of her to be would be the first place to start.

He didn't think much more on the subject, and definitely not enough so that he thought about finding some form of transportation in order to reach his destination faster. It was the furthest thing from his mind, honestly, along with the people he passed by, the car that almost ran him down at a certain intersection when he refused to acknowledge the light changing.

It took him almost twenty-two minutes to reach the district downtown, on the edge of Pallet and leading into the short woods leading to Viridian, where Misty said she'd be. And every second of those he worried, worried in a way that he shouldn't have, couldn't have, had he really been just a friend of hers – a friend she'd lost contact with for almost five years. His eyes were suddenly tearing the ground in front and around him apart in search for familiar clothes, familiar hair, a familiar face or voice. He might have even seen someone else he knew, but he was so focused on finding Misty and making sure she was okay that he didn't really notice.

He was soon approaching the Italian restaurant Misty had mentioned, and was sooner wondering who he should talk to, if he'd be able to get anyone's attention. What would he say? That he happened to be looking for someone who'd been dining there that evening and who'd run about an hour later in returning home than she'd mentioned to him previously? Let alone the fact that this woman was twenty-four years old. . . Ash didn't want to be laughed out of the place. . .

Luckily, it didn't come to that. He hadn't noticed until he was standing right in front her, staring down at the top of her head that Misty was right in front of him.

She was crying her eyes out. She was crying her eyes out and hadn't seemed to notice him standing in front of her, and she wasn't really moving other than that. Ash was sure other people had passed her by, whether on the street or simply the customers coming and going from the restaurant. . . Hadn't anyone else supposed that she might need some help? Did they think she was simply the type to want the extra attention gained by sitting outside a public domain and losing all sense of reality like she was?

He finally decided to sit down beside her and, though he wasn't sure or not if it was the right thing to do, he immediately put an arm around her shoulder. It wasn't Summer, after all, and she was in such distress that she hadn't even put her coat back on.

She must have realized someone was there; at least, she wasn't prone to jumping at the feeling of a sudden touch.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. She must have also guessed it was him.

"You didn't come home on time, so Brock and I agreed I should follow after you and make sure you were okay."

She didn't ask anymore about Brock's involvement, rather liking the thought of dissolving more into her tears. It lasted like that for awhile, too. Ash didn't say anything more to her until she had eventually run out of cries. He felt awful, too, because just like the last time, she seemed to glow so much now, in a way that normal people didn't. He couldn't quite grasp how he was able to love her more when she couldn't even be bothered with talking to him at a time where he felt like if he didn't know what had made her so upset, he might just detonate.

". . . It's over."

"Huh?"

"You wanna know what's wrong, right? It's over. Derek brought me out to this place specifically to break it off with me tonight."

". . . Oh."

She sniffled a bit more and finally seemed to realize that, in the heat of her tears and his support, she'd somehow found her face pressed hard against his chest. It was uncomfortable, but it was still something she could bare to live with.

"Are you happy now? You didn't like him anyway, did you?"

"I. . ." He didn't feel like lying to her at this point was a good idea. "I'm ecstatic. But not for the idiotic reasons you might think."

"Oh, and what are those reasons, then?" She barked, suddenly looking angry.

"I. . . can't tell you. It wouldn't make the situation better right now if I did," he cleared his throat and Misty stared him down hard for a few seconds before finally sighing in despondence, "So. . . he just left you here, though?"

"No, he offered to take me home, and he offered to still be friends, too. But I didn't want that, either of them. I can't stand the thought of it, after all we'd been through together. We were dating for so long, I couldn't see him as anything more or less than that one person I could almost think of spending the rest of my life wi—"

"—No, don't say that. Please?" Ash asked, and she glared at him again in confusion. "Well, you'd be worse off if you couldn't learn to stop thinking that way, wouldn't you? And. . . if only for my benefit, just. . . don't bring him up with that title. If you wanna hear my opinion, he never would have deserved it."

"Derek Martin was a good guy! He was what I've been looking for for years! And I thought I'd finally grabbed it, and I couldn't see how it could end badly because the only reason it seemed to in Cerulean was 'cause I didn't have all that extra time for a relationship but. . . I guess I can't expect anything that great to happen to me, and to pan out, too."

"W – well, sure, if you think that he's the only good thing you could expect anyway. . . !" Ash stated with an edge to the tone. He was suddenly very aggravated.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I. . . let's go home."

"No, no! You. . . you're not thinking right because you're upset about it all now, and you're acting like you'd never be able to move on without him, but he's just a guy, and you've only known him for half a year! I mean, look at us; you've known me since we were kids and you seemed to be living fine during those few years I wasn't around. . . ! How can he be that much more important to you, more important than what we've got?" The raven-haired young man yelled, jumping to his feet.

Misty followed suit but perhaps she was too tired to shout back, because she spoke in barely more than a mutter.

"Just because I don't talk about it with you doesn't mean I wasn't hurt or upset or angry or afraid after all the time we spent apart. I worried over if you didn't care for me anymore, and I wondered almost constantly about May and Drew, and how Brock's business was going. I thought even more – though – about how you would be doing at home, alone, because your mom had moved out and you'd stopped training, so your Pokemon were living up at the Oak Preserve. . . I could never just stop thinking about you, Ash; you were always on my mind.

"And I'm sorry that you didn't try to think about it differently, like I've been thinking about it for so long." She threw her coat over her shoulders and was already on the move. "Now can we go? I'm cold and exhausted, and I need to go to bed before I start to. . ." And as though it were on queue, her crying started up again, but now it seemed even quieter than before. ". . . Why. . . ? I'm always fucking up, aren't I. . . ? If I – if I were May, or – or even your mom. . . ! Or Simone. . . I'd have better luck than I do now – probably twice as much so! When will I learn to accept my limitations? Things will always go wrong for me, no matter where I'm living or what I'm doing for myself. . . And, to think, for awhile I was blaming these things on my sisters. . ."

". . . Misty. . ." He said softly, not sure if there was anything he really wanted to say or not. Either way, she interrupted him before he got the chance.

"Let's just go home. . ."

The walk back to Ash's house was slow but made in solid silence. The two were more careful when crossing the streets this time, and Ash refused to look at Misty anymore than necessary. For obvious reasons, every time he did, he was reminded of what she'd said that night, and that only made her see red. Well, actually, it was more red-orange-yellow-black. . . It never really stuck to one color – one form of anger.

They walked swiftly and stealthily inside and Pikachu turned to face them suddenly with her ears twitching from the sounds they made as the walked into the living room. Misty threw her things down onto the couch too, and kicked at the floor before decidedly being too lazy to carry everything up the stairs with her. Ash understood and turned to his buddy.

"Pikachu, why don't you go up to bed with her tonight? She might need you to hold onto." He smiled down at her and the small electric rodent nodded, already halfway off the sofa and rampaging up the stairs two at a time.

Misty didn't bother to wash her face or remove her clothes. What was the point? So she fell torso-first against her small bed, sighing into the pillow she collapsed against and feeling the sudden but not fearful weight of Pikachu as she joined her there.

The redhead didn't even notice Ash standing right outside her door, waiting for her to fall asleep. And when she finally was (almost an hour later), he made slow progress in alleviating his anger by entering her room and advancing towards the datebook laying open on her vanity. He flipped to the back where the address section was and looked up the name and number he needed before running out of the room, down the stairs, and into the brisk night air again.

Derek lived much closer than he would have thought, considering where the guy went to school, and Ash was there in about ten minutes. The apartment building stood tall in front of him and he was pleased in noting he didn't need to be buzzed in after hours, like some other places. As sneaky as was possible for him, he dashed up the front stairs and into the building, jumping up to the second floor and standing in front of the guy's door for two minutes before making his move.

He really was going to do this, he decided with a faint nod, taking a deep, almost cleansing breath before knocking. That didn't last long though before he lost any slight ounce of patience he had, beginning to pound, then bang, and then kick.

"Hold on; I'm coming, I'm coming already!" Came a voice from beyond the door, and in good time, too. Any longer and Ash was sure he'd be talking to the neighbors about his poor social skills. "Jesus, can't it wait until tomorrow? It's after ten," was heard as the door flew open, and Derek and Ash stared at each other for a few seconds before one pair of eyes widened in honest recognition and a certain other persons' fist flung forward, only to come into contact with the wood of the door. Derek had tried to shut the door in his face, and the action had been cut off halfway.

"Shit. . ." The raven-haired ex-trainer muttered before shoving his way inside and ignoring the fact that Derek was fiercely trying to push him back out. "You son of a bitch! Look what you did to my hand!" He yelled, rampaging forward.

"What the hell are you talking about? Look what you almost did to my face!" The other man yelled back, stepping back towards the hall connected between his kitchen and living room, and ignoring it.

It was all Ash could do not to smash Derek's head against the plaster of the wall. He did manage, though, for at least a few more seconds. To help contain his fury, he wrung out his right hand behind his back, exciting the injury in his knuckles.

"I don't give a damn! Do you have any idea what she was looking forward to with you? How often she told me about wanting to see you and dating you and. . . ! You don't deserve to hear all of that, though, after what you did! You know, she was crying all fucking night!" He stated in disregard for the man's future on this realm. He stomped even further towards him and, maybe knowing there was no means of escape but still wanting to put the pain on hold anyway, Derek edged his way down the hall until he had his back jammed up against the door of his bedroom. And, despite the pain, Ash persevered and jumped Misty's new ex, sending him against the bedroom door, which happened to be slightly ajar. They both fell through and Ash landed on top of Derek, throwing his second punch to the guy's face, exactly where he'd been planning the first one to go.

"I'm sorry, too, okay? I liked her, but I had some other things to deal with and I couldn't keep seeing her! How is that my fault?" He attempted to say, the sentences spread into fragments as Ash implanted another fist in him.

"How'd you break it to her, though? You made it sound like it was her doing that made you need to end it with her! She wanted someone like you, got someone like you, and even that wasn't enough for you to realize what you had with her. . . !"

And Ash was suddenly disgusted with this man, and with himself, and he couldn't afford to touch him anymore, so he steadily rose to his feet and stepped back. He was proud of himself even more when he looked at Derek's face, proud of the damage he'd done despite the growing pain in his right hand from when it had been slammed against the door, and when it had repeatedly found its way to Derek's head. He stepped back to observe, saw the opposing force was still conscious, and spit at him.

"If you ever show your face to her again, I'll kill you. You never deserved her attention anyway, and you won't deserve it anymore now, either, even if it's only by making her cry."

And, just like a phantom, Ash was gone.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Notes** – Oh my God, I'm done! Wahahah! I was so hoping all Pokeshippers would love the scene where Ash punched Derek out. I couldn't think of a fair explanation as to why he broke up with Misty, though, so I left it open-ended. He could be just an ass, or he could have had a valuable reason that no one cared to hear, or it could have been something in between. (I wanted to go for the something in between because it was realistic for the character I'd created and for Ash and Misty's reactions to it. I couldn't see Misty getting so upset, or Ash finding it in himself to beat the shit of the guy, when all he was doing was making sure his dad was okay after. . . say. . . a stroke. It would just be wrong, even if it would still hurt to know it was over, right?)

Wow, and this thing is almost eleven-thousand words! It's like Illicit Saints all over again! Hah! I want to say so much else, but I'm too excited in wait of posting this chapter up. So, despite the time crunching needed for me to run to my class right now, complete my homework, keep going to my other classes, deal with life, and the move I made last month in general, I'm gonna post this now. . . I might even start on the next chapter by the end of the night, but that's still in process, if you know what I mean.

Oh, **PS**, the last scene of this chapter was edited the morning after postage, and. . . I wanted to say I got a new job! Or, well, it's more like I got my old job back, but still. And I won't be paid as much, but I really only needed someplace to go and earn cash to pay my phone bill. I've been dipping into my savings account recently. . .

The last thing is the spoiler, right? Right!

**Spoiler** – Ash returns home without Misty's knowledge of the incident taking place at all, but next morning finds it that much harder by the fact that he can barely move his hand due to the swelling. If Misty finally figures out why he's constantly keeping it hidden away from her, what will she say? Not to mention that, later, in the process of some personal time, Misty gets a call on her cell phone from May, who says that Drew's kicked her out!


	10. Makes You the Same as Always

**Author **- Chibi / Warlordess

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes **- I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Ten **- "Makes You the Same as Always"

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **March **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially started **February 14, 2008**.

**O**o**O**o**O**

It was a bad idea. Ash didn't really think so, but he knew Misty would. And after she had finished nailing that reality into his head, she would continue to state why; Derek had been a good guy, he had had a reason and - though it had still hurt - she had been able to live with it. She would probably start crying, too, but Ash would be all the more convinced by her tears that he'd done the right thing. He would admit to himself (and only himself) that he was not the type of person to think things completely through. He'd never grown into that person, and he'd never grown out of the person he was - the off-beat type who would rather act first, and irrationally, and think back on the subject later.

Derek Martin sounded like a good person, even to him. Why had he gone so berserk, then? Why had he entered Misty's room without her permission and while she was sleeping as soundly as she could despite her distress over the situation just to find out the man's address?

Because Misty wouldn't have let him do what he'd been planning if she'd known; she would have probably hit him over the head with a frying pan in order to prevent him from even going out and wandering the streets with the thoughts he'd had going through his mind, each flying around a mile a minute.

What anger had Ash really felt he needed to take out on that guy?

The anger that said he'd upset Misty, made her cry, made her feel unlovable, untouchable, unnecessary. She had deserved it less than he had deserved to get his face beaten in. Ash would think back on it and realize that the time he'd fallen for Misty - or at least known of it - had been the time he'd seen her sitting there on his couch and crying her eyes out, unsure of what to do about her sisters harassment, threatening him with bodily harm to get him to stop staring, and holding a pillow to her own face to make sure he wouldn't see.

He had felt a bit guilty, though, when he'd finished with Mr. Derek Martin. Maybe he had had his reasons, maybe they had been very good, too; his father might have fallen ill, he may have turned victim to the stress and overload of twice as many courses at college as were recommended, or maybe he could have felt he wasn't giving Misty what she needed so he'd broken up with her for _her _sake. But Derek Martin seemed to misunderstand if that was the case. Misty had still been content with what she'd had with him, and she would have understood about seeing him less if he gave a reason. She said she respected someone who was like him, someone who knew they had a lot on their plate and wanted to be sure of what they could handle. Even so, no excuse was good enough for Ash in that moment he realized he hated Misty in tears, even though she still looked so beautiful. Nothing made him think about his actions, made him consider Derek's side, because Misty was miserable and upset and she had cared for a person - yet one more of so many - who had left her grieving for something she thought had been going so well.

So the amount of guilt and disgust Ash may have been feeling afterwards was clouded by the reasoning for his judgment. It was clouded, too, by the wrath he might be facing, especially when there was such. . . _obvious_. . . evidence towards his having committed the crime.

He was home and asleep after his meeting with Derek by around two in the morning. He was out cold almost immediately. . . but it didn't seem to last very long. Yes, he'd woken up to the sun shining in his eyes (annoyingly, he would add) but he couldn't figure out what had awakened him, and there was definitely something.

He turned over onto his stomach and his hand seemed to jump and throb and it hit him.

Holy _shit_, that hurt. . . !

He hurled himself out of bed and hit the floor from the hurry to remove that hand from under his chest and his body weight. When he took a moment to gather himself and blinked the sleep from his eyes, he also took the moment to look at the damage from the night before.

"Oh, man. . ." He groaned, noticing the familiar purple-red look of two of his knuckles. They weren't exactly the strongest bones of his body, and he realized quite suddenly that he was unable to fully bend his fingers. (Not that he could bend them at all without feeling something unpleasant.) They were worse than jammed - they were broken. The skin had ripped, too, and he knew for sure that, even if they weren't still bleeding, it would be no surprise to find some reddish hues igniting random areas of his sheets.

"A - Ash, are ya okay. . . ?" Came a voice from the other side of his door, and he almost hit the ceiling from the jump he made. _Misty_. "I heard this huge thump and I was worried. . . Is something wrong?"

"Uh. . . ah, yeah! I'm good, don't worry about me, Myst! Why don't you go get something warm to drink, or take a shower? You. . . might like that, it could make you feel better." Not to mention he could use that time when she was incapacitated to find some way to wrap and hide his hand from her. . .

"You don't have to tell me twice. . ." She grumbled and he almost laughed, "But. . . ! But Pikachu wants in. I guess she spent enough time comforting me last night, or maybe she wants to talk to you about it. . . or something."

"Y - yeah, okay!" And he reached his feet in a flurry and rushed to his door, pulling it open barely half a foot, just the size for his buddy to try squeezing through.

"Wow, do you have something to hide, or. . . ?" Misty tried asking, almost in the form of a joke, but Ash took her seriously and slammed the door shut again just in time for her to try peeking in. "Look, Ash, despite what you may think, I won't be pissed or upset anymore if you have a girl in there! Or any of those dirty magazines that Brock gave you when you were fourteen! I get it, you're a guy. . . Your sexual orientation doesn't have anything at all to do with me," she called from through the wood and he almost slapped himself in the forehead.

"Misty, it's not that, okay? I - I'm just. . . I sleep in my boxers! Yeah, that's it!"

"And. . . this is supposed to be new to me?" She asked and he actually heard her giggle. Well, it was a start that she found anything laughable. That meant that she wasn't as traumatized by the events from the night before. . . right?

"Just leave me alone, Myst!" He wanted dearly to throw something at her, but knew that his door would probably block the pillow he was eying. Yeah, most likely.

"Fine, fine; I'll just leave you and your manliness alone so that you can do whatever it is you have to do - whether that's masturbation or trying to tame your hair. Neither of them are things I wanna watch you attempt anyway." And he distinctly heard the realistic footfalls of her feet as she walked down the stairs.

He took his time in reaching his feet, seeing as he only had one hand to place on the ground to ease himself up, and then cautiously went to sit on his bed, drawing a deep breath.

Pikachu had run through as fast as she could when she'd had the chance, almost knowing that it was what Ash needed her to do, especially since he'd slammed it closed again and spoken with a high level of discomfort towards his best friend before.

"What should I do, Pikachu?" He asked his friend, and she quirked her head curiously before finally catching sight of the hand he was trying to hide even now and leaping onto the mattress to get a better look.

"Okapi, chu chu pika?" She asked, sniffing at it for a second and trying to lick it the way she'd literally lick her own wounds, but he ripped it away with a hiss.

"Sorry, buddy," he grimaced with a tight smile, "I don't think that will work in this case. But I don't want Misty to see, otherwise she might get ideas. . . and knowing her, those ideas will be right on the mark."

"Chu chu _pika_?" Pikachu stated with a point of her tail, repeating her question.

"I. . . don't like Misty crying. I hate to watch it and know that someone made her feel that way."

"Pikachu pika chu ka. . ." That translated like something closely related to, "_duh_!" It probably elaborated a little bit, though.

"Last night I finally did something about it, too."

Pikachu's ears perked as high as they could go and her jaw dropped open, apparently shocked at the news. Ash stared back at her and, almost ashamed, tried even more to hide his hand under the pillow misplaced beside him, but it hurt and so he immediately removed it from that place.

"Chu pikachu, Pikapi?"

"I was thinking that if she really deserved to cry about the loss then he did, too. I felt like a bad friend for not being there sooner even though I knew she needed me, and I feel even worse now because I know she's gonna kill me when she finds out about it. I might have made the wrong choice, I know it, when I went over there and beat the shit out of him without even the slightest knowledge of his explanation. . . but I still think that there was nothing else I could do to make myself feel better about it. I was probably wrong _again_, wasn't I? I'll never learn though."

"Pikachupi pika kachu." Pikachu stated confidently with a slight admonishing touch to it.

"Thanks for that vote, buddy," Ash said, reaching forward with his hand to scratch her behind the ears, but Pikachu continued before he could and he realized anyway that it almost wasn't worth the pain he'd bear if he tried.

"Pikachupi pika kachu. Pikachupi pika chu ka, pi chu, pikachu, pipi kachu ka!" And she nodded her head as she finished with all of the things she was sure Misty wouldn't mind doing to Ash when she found out about his harsh actions last night.

"Oh, _thanks_. . . !" He replied with fully - intended sarcasm. The last thing he needed was the shit kicked out of him, certain body parts forcibly removed, or to be maimed in all ways before he could think of anything to defend himself.

He heard humming from under his door, coming from the hallways as Misty (the most likely guess) walked by. There was the sound of a door shutting and she disappeared into the bathroom. Ten seconds later the sound of running water disrupted the quiet of the entire floor.

"Bin-go!" Ash stated, easing his door open slightly and viewing the hallways just in time to see the bathroom door close. He took his chance and ran out into the hall, on his toes and listening for anything that indicated Misty would be joining him before she'd finished showering.

Still, this gave him the time he needed to find something to hide his hand from her. While she had - most unfortunately - taken over the room where the first aid kit was held, she had not yet dominated the linen closet where the ace bandage was kept. So he wouldn't be able to place any ointment over the cuts; it was okay anyway that he could just put something over it so that it would lose its tenderness to the open air and keep itself out of plain sight.

Ash already knew he didn't think things over completely; he had admitted that to himself. . .

. . . But he didn't even begin to think that the wide bandage wrapping up his hand and halfway up his arm would be just as conspicuous as leaving that hand the way it'd been before.

That was until he was suddenly faced with his best friend exiting the bathroom in nothing but a towel - talk about _cleavage _- and the two of them were staring awkwardly at each other.

"Um, believe me - I have _not _been standing here, waiting for you to come out of there. Especially not to see what you look like naked. I'm not like that, I swear."

"Well, let's hope you weren't at least wanting me to come out of there as a man. I'd be a little upset if I found out you swung that way." Misty shrugged, suddenly acting as though standing there, dripping and feeling a slightly uncomfortable breeze, was nothing to be bothered by. As though her dearest friend of the longest time staring her up and down was normal, and something she looked forward to on a daily basis.

Personally, it would make Ash feel a little better if that were the case. As of now, he was alone - stranded - in this sea of bittersweet emotion. It was a hard enough conclusion to come to, that he felt feelings beyond friendship for his friend. Apparently, it was too difficult to define what she was to him anymore without growing impatient and uncomfortable. He only wanted to know what she thought. She was obviously perfectly fine around him now, even in current situations that made it _hard _for him in more than one way. . . But if she thought about it, if she were forced to sit down and do just that - like he'd had to, what decision would she come to?

"Ash," she said quite suddenly, and he almost jumped, though the two of them had been facing each other like that for the past five or so minutes, "It's not for nothing but you're kind of freaking me out staring blankly like that." She gave a laugh that ended in almost a choke and, just as she was turning away to run to her room, she looked back, "By the way, what's with the wrist brace? Have an injury at work or something?"

Perfect! That was a perfect excuse; he could so get away with using that for his own! Or, so Ash thought (it was so ridiculously simple that he couldn't believe he hadn't thought about it himself) until Misty shot it down on her own.

"No, no. . . You haven't had a job since before I left last night, right? And I know you weren't wearing anything on your wrist before I left for. . . that _thing _I had to go to last night."

Oh. So she was still bothered by it. Of course, how could he think otherwise? And she'd reduced the situation to something referred to as, _'that thing_.'

"Um, yeah - I mean, you're right. Actually, it's from. . . uh. . ."

"That's nice, really, but can I go get dressed first? I want to put my hair back before it dries and frizzes out."

"Uh. . . definitely! You go do that, and I. . ." But Misty had already made a mad dash for her bedroom, halfway down the hall. Ash almost laughed. He'd escaped telling her for just a little bit longer, ". . . I'm going to figure out what the fuck I should be doing with myself before you kill me."

It was easier said than done. Pikachu joined her Master on his living room couch and he made a point to ease her tension by massaging her behind her ear with his good hand. The other was mysteriously hidden half behind his back, in a way that he found at least bearable as he tried to think of a solution to everything that would end with all of his bodily organs and functions intact.

Again, to reinforce the former statement, it was easier said than done. Misty was a compassionate person, even towards people she didn't like much. Ash hoped that Derek had now fit himself into that group of people. Even so, if she knew that he'd taken it upon himself to make that guy hurt because he'd made Misty hurt. . . Well, there was the slimmest of chances in his favor that stated Misty might be compassionate, yes, but compassionate towards _him _rather than the idiot guy she'd been dating, and who'd dumped her shamelessly even though she really cared for him. (It was the way he liked to think it had happened, so simplistic.) But the chances were far greater that, while she may still pity his injury, she'd want only more to add to it.

"You're really freaking me out."

They were sitting at the dining room table now, and Ash admitted that it seemed dream-like, how he'd found himself there. He looked up slowly, as though he was far too tired to lift his head, and stared back at her blankly.

"What are you talking about?"

Apparently Misty took her loss more to heart than Ash himself would have liked. He'd rather think that he could place Misty in a lighted world where painful things bounced off of her and drifted away uselessly, where she couldn't be touched, or impacted with situations and people who could make her angry, make her cry, make her feel the way she does now.

Ash had learned over the course of the few months he and Misty had lived together so far that she was far more involved in her personal appearance than she had been at age twelve. She would wear make-up (enough to make her skin look flawless, but not so much to make anyone who looked think she had fallen into a pile of wheat flour), she wore her hair back in more flattering terms (now that it was halfway down her back, she favored a French braid more than anything), and she actually cared about the things she wore because she knew statements were made between adults based on what you could afford to clothe yourself with.

Today, it just. . . didn't seem to matter. She had showered, yeah, but that was only to make sure that every bit of mascara that had smudged her face the night before was gone. She wore a tee-shirt and shorts, and her hair was still partially wet and laying flat against her back.

Despite that, Ash still thought he would prefer looking at her more than any other woman at the time - even those ones in Playboy.

"I mean, you've been staring at everything and nothing all day, you took Pikachu back to the lab early, and. . . you're eating with your left hand." He dropped the fork he'd been using to pick up a piece of the bell green pepper in the vegetable and beef stir fry out of shock. "What, you thought we would go through a decade of friendship and I wouldn't notice that you were right-handed?"

He knew to a point that right-handed people were more common anyway, that it could have just been a lucky guess. Maybe she was trying to psyche him out enough to make him face reality? But, at the same time, he had to admit that Misty was an attentive person for the most part. It was one of those things that differed between the two because he realized in that moment he hadn't thought of the small things to do with her that may have mattered.

Like the fact that she was left-handed.

"Oh. Uh, no; it didn't cross my mind. Sorry." And he ducked his head down and slurped up the beef and onion he'd pulled onto his fork, avoiding looking at her.

". . . You didn't answer my question."

"Huh? What? Sorry, I missed it."

"No you didn't. You dropped your fork when I asked it. That means the question held some significance for you." She coughed and put her own fork down as though boycotting the continuation of her meal until he answered her honestly.

"Oh, you mean. . . about my hand? Um, it's an old sprain. The pain started coming back last night."

"But you didn't put the bandage on until this morning? I don't buy it. I know you're lazy, and you like to put things on hold, but it had to hurt enough to think about wanting to do something about it, if you felt that kind of thing since last night."

"I. . . dunno, then."

"Let me see it."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're lying to me, I hate that, and apparently I'll have to figure out the truth for myself." And she held out her own palms expectantly, waiting for him to give in.

Which he did, almost immediately. What could he do if she wanted to see it? Fake vomit or something crazy to sidetrack her long enough for him to take that chance he needed to run away? _Right_. Even if he did decide it was worth it just to live for awhile longer before she slaughtered him in cold blood, it would draw the same conclusion either way.

Better to have it done sooner rather than later.

So he held his right hand forward, a couple fingers bent awkwardly from their stiffness. It hurt like a bitch to move them, after all, so he wasn't going to force it. Misty's brow furrowed as she began unwrapping from across the tabletop, and her eyes widened slowly more and more as the damage was unraveled.

"Ash, what the hell?!" She shrieked, staring at it disgustedly. The pointer and middle fingers were both a dusty violet, extending from the knuckles to the peaks of the nails. That wasn't all, seeing as all four fingers had been ripped of half of the skin or so, and dried blood scabbed along them all. "What did you do, bash it repeatedly against a wall out of complete boredom?" She threw up her hands in way of a defeatist persona, unable to imagine the reason for his condition.

"No, how stupid would that be?"

"Was it a Rock-type Pokemon? Or Steel-type?"

"No!"

"Well, then. . . it must have been some sort of fight." She crossed her arms and stared into his eyes accusingly, already firm in her belief, and he knew he couldn't lie to her so he just stared back.

"It. . . I mean, it kinda. . . I'll admit to being out of hand if you admit he deserved it!"

"What? Who the hell are you talking ab -- Ash, you didn't. You did not find Derek last night and. . ." Her forehead hit the table before he could think to defend himself at all.

"Um, no, no; it wasn't him! I mean, what did you think? What, I brought you home, made sure you were eased into a deep sleep by Pikachu's comfort, and took full advantage of the open access of your room by rooting through your personal things and finding your address book? And then I suppose you think I must have been unable to wait to avenge you, so I ran straight out the front door and downtown without even thinking about the consequences and ransacked his apartment while beating the crap out of him? Hah!" He laughed, but it was uneasy, and Misty's glare was fiercer with every second of his attitude that said they could just blow this off and never talk about it again.

"What were you thinking?" She asked in a surprisingly calm tone, but her eyes still told tales of death.

"I. . . don't know?" He asked, looking in every direction that wasn't the one she was looking back from.

"You could be arrested! Charges made, damage finances filed, felonies placed on your permanent record! And as if Derek wasn't already freaked out enough by me, my stupid as anything best friend had to kick his ass! Ugh!"

"Misty. . . were you thinking he'd take you back once he dealt with whatever it is he had to deal with?"

Misty blinked, and while she still looked furious, she was suddenly red in the face and quite embarrassed. And slowly the visible anger seemed to subside into a soft, longing expression.

"I - I mean, I hoped, yeah. . . but. . . I guess I kind of knew that there was next to no chance of that happening. Right?" Ash looked ready to answer, but she didn't give him the time he needed to do so, reaching her feet and slamming her hands down on the table. "But that doesn't give you any right to do what you did! Why would you go so crazy? You didn't think, right? Like you never do!" She slid back into her chair and placed her face in her hands.

". . . Myst. . . If it makes matters easier, I think he's too terrified to press charges or confront me on any level." Ash leaned forward and whispered as though it were a secret, "He almost pissed his pants last night."

Even if only for a moment, it had the effect on her he'd been hoping for.

"Heh. . ." She gave the slightest giggle but otherwise tried to show she wasn't pleased with what he said to her. She rubbed at her eyes frustratingly while stating in a clear tone, "Shut up, Ash; I'm mad - and I'm mad at you, so don't try and think it's all misdirected anger from what happened last night.

"I just. . . still don't get why you'd do it, though. Did you really hate him so much? He was a good guy, despite the fact that he never told me why he knew it wouldn't work out between the two of us."

He knew she'd think like that. He hated that she did, too, because it made him feel like the bad guy even more.

"I didn't like him; you're right. But I haven't liked him the whole time."

"Ash, you're a good person, and let's face it - the skills you portrayed as a trainer when you were younger were excellent but. . . I refuse to consider the possibility of your being psychic, too. There's no way you could have known this would happen between the two of us." And the statement ended in a sigh of resentment.

"You're on a roll tonight, Myst; right again. I didn't know anything like this would happen. Actually. . . I thought it'd work out with you and him. And I was pissed off.

"I hated that he made you cry and he made you upset and made you think you were unworthy of a relationship, even if it wasn't his intention. But. . ." It was at this point that her curiosity peaked and she looked him in the eyes, one brow quirked.

"But I thought that it was even worse that he made you happy."

Misty didn't know what to say to that. She was confused, angry, upset. Why couldn't Ash stand to see her happy? What about her being content with the way her life was going, on a personal level, had made him feel like adding to the ruin wasn't a bad idea?

She asked him as much and he looked away, red in the face. She was pretty sure she'd been here before, that she'd had this happen to her at least one other time in her life. She had been faced with her sisters' fairytale lives and been played into acting out the role of the least-liked character in those stories. . . and she'd been bitter because of it. It was even worse when she was at work, or out making runs to the post office to mail bills and things. Random people with their lovers and families and a happiness that touched and curled around Misty's own aura in a way that taunted her, saying she could only wish for something like that.

"Ash. . . I'm sorry, I guess."

"Huh?" He snapped back to attention and saw that she was serious, and he almost face-faulted. She thought it had something to do with her personally?

"I mean, I was happy for the longest time, and I didn't even think about how it might have affected you. I didn't think about how you handled being alone most of the time - after all, you always complained about this place being too big for just you and Pikachu's short-term visits. And I didn't think about your possibly being jealous because you didn't have something like that, too. . . Do you think that's why Derek broke up with me, though?" There was a small gasp as the idea hit her fully, "M - maybe he sensed the tension between _us _more than I did and thought it was for the best! If that's it, then maybe I can still. . . but then again," and she turned and glared at him for the first time in almost twenty minutes. Crap; and he thought he'd escaped that. . .

Still, the fact that she had the completely wrong thought process running through her head made him slap a hand to his (the good one), and he soon after reached his own feet in a near fit.

"I didn't do it because I was jealous of you, Myst! I did it because - if anything - I was jealous of _him_!"

Misty felt a sirenesque ringing in her ears that she couldn't deny. The way he worded it, it almost sounded like. . . like he had finally learned to reciprocate those feelings her fourteen year old self had had for him.

She felt the almost immediate urge to snort contemptuously. Of course; Ash had matured to that now, had he? It figures that it would be almost ten years too late.

She had outgrown him now.

Right?

Nevertheless, she fell back into her chair from a shock she hoped he didn't notice; but of course he did. She was staring at him as though he had foreign writing smeared in black ink across his forehead. At least that would be funny; this was somehow upsetting and annoying and. . . and endearing and unanticipated and _not _bad.

"I - I'm sorry, what? I'm - uh. . . I think I misheard." And she pretended to clean out her ears. It was a way out if Ash had ever seen one, but he suddenly didn't want to take it. He could face this; he'd faced worse after all. It only made sense that he would have to tell her sometime anyway, and it was out in the open now. He'd rather discuss everything at once and deal with the awkward surroundings, rather than wait it out and know that things might not get better because of it.

"I was jealous of him, Misty." And he wasn't even using his nickname for her! "He made you smile, made you want to be around him, made you not want to be around me much anymore. It was worse than being replaced. You had something with him that I couldn't stand to view as a third party. I wanted it for myself. It's why I never liked him, why I saw the break up as a chance to be taken. So I found his address and - and I ran to his apartment and. . . I made him pay for everything. Finally."

Misty found it hard - yet not impossible - to look up at her best friend and view the expression on his face. He looked guilty, true, but still valiant. He honestly thought he'd done it right. And even though she could be as upset with him as ever, it wouldn't convince him that what he'd done was wrong. She knew that, and her anger evaporated right there. She knew better than to waste it.

"So. . . what are you saying exactly? Are you, like. . . in love with me or something?" She asked with half a smile, and it seemed she was daring him to answer.

"Wha - I. . . I mean, no! It - I can't be, right? No, I think I'd know if I was!" He stated, but came around to her side of the table anyway, kneeling down in front of her and making sure she was paying attention.

"I'm just. . . infatuated. I guess. I want to be the one to make you cry and smile - but mostly smile, of course." He grinned good-naturedly at her and she found herself red in the face. "And I want to be the one you depend on most, at least for now. Even if May's standing right next to you, too; I want it to be me that you turn to when you need a shoulder to cry on or an ear to give a mouthful.

"I want to know that I won't be able to be mad at other guys for making you laugh irresistibly, for making me seem like less of a best friend and more of a roommate that doesn't really partake in your life. And I want to be mad at only you in a relationship between just the two of us, and you to be mad at me - especially so that we can have the best make-up sex afterwards," Misty was suddenly flustered and Ash waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"And I think the last thing I'd want to be sure of is that. . . I'd know you'd be sure I would never turn my back on you, or hurt you, or anger you intentionally. And I'd do my best not to do it accidentally either because, while I want to live, I also want to be the one person you know who's bound to bring out the best in you."

"Ash. . ."

He was such a stupid, _stupid_. . . superhero to her anymore; always saving her, always making her feel like her mistakes weren't condemning her. In fact, he made her feel safe and easy-going, and. . . and loved, and all things she shouldn't be acknowledging from a friend. Rather, those feelings were on a level that wasn't meant for a friend.

"Well, did the awkwardness just increase three times over, or is it me?" And he looked up into her eyes and gave a sheepish grin that said she could forget everything he'd just claimed to feel for her if she really wanted to.

"But I owe you an answer, don't I? And you, if you're human in any form, would want one." Misty cleared her throat and looked away from him, embarrassed and scared and uneasy. She didn't want it anymore, not for now anyway. She could live without those miseries she'd grown to know firsthand. She'd come to expect them, and she was so tired of them that she wanted to act like she'd never felt them coming upon her to begin with.

"I'm sorry, Ash; you're my best friend, and I don't want this to happen right now, and not with you in a way that could just be me on the rebound. You deserve more than that.

"Things weren't going well for me before I came to Pallet, and they continued to decline after that, too; all except for my relationship with you. It got better and better and I soon found it something to depend on. If I felt sad, you'd come to rescue me and if I was worried or pissed off, you made everything better. So now, when you want me to make you feel better, too. . . I can't do that to you honestly and completely without making it seem like I'm looking for. . . _anything_. . . to make it easier on me.

"I care about you too much to do that to you, even if you say now that it's enough."

Ash blinked and, strangely, he wanted to laugh. He should have known this was coming, after all. He'd been there for at least two of Misty's romantic endeavors, and their negative spiral after she had tried so hard to live her new life to the fullest.

"Yeah, yeah; I know that. Hah!" He threw his head back and decided that the underside of the kitchen table was more interesting than anything else. "Why even bother, right? I'm too late for everything, aren't I?"

"But. . ." Either Misty hadn't heard his last statement, or she had felt guilty because of it and wanted to make a difference, ". . . but you do make me happier whenever I feel down so I owe you something for that, and. . . I want to experience something with no strings attached, so. . . I'll kiss you now, if you think I'm worth it."

Ash wanted to feel on higher ground than he was, even after his rejection that wasn't really a rejection, but he knew that he would give anything for this moment to happen and he didn't have the heart to make Misty's last line about herself anymore true in her soul. So he only leaned a little further in and knocked foreheads with her.

Misty's cheeks turned scarlet in response like they would if she were a fourteen year old girl with a crush.

"Of course. Whatever you feel is right for now, go ahead. You know more about this romantic stuff than me anyway."

Plus, it was far harder to deny the fact that he wanted it.

_Don't hold your breath_, Misty thought as she pulled her face away and lent in a better direction that was inspired by her years of confidence gained by her other relationships.

Ash hoped he wouldn't be accused of expecting too much by pleading for more times like this between them at future intervals. That fearsome electric wash that showered him was addictive, to say the least.

**O**o**O**

The group of four sat in the booth that had almost literally become "theirs" in Viridian's bistro, and Misty and Ash continued to glance anxiously at the walls around them as May and Brock gawked.

"So, let me get this straight," Brock coughed and cleared his throat, drawing to the suspense before making his statement, "you guys are dating? Like, as in, sexual tension from decades past has finally come to a close and you're shacking up in one another's bed every other hour depending on if you're in the mood for close quarters or not? You see, May?" He turned to the youngest of the group, "Do you see now what a good fuck does for the system? If I wasn't bound by those stupid rulebooks of my group therapy, I'd be at it twice as much as them."

"Y - yeah, right; as if you could get laid before you were cut off from ogling, Brocko." May huffed and turned away, before asking her own first question, "But, really, it's true? I mean, do you guys know how long we've been waiting for this? It figures that the one time you two are brave enough to confess, it would be alone, in Ash's house, with no supervision or witnesses. . . Hn, what _are _you two doing in there?"

"Look, look - it's really not how it seems! Derek and I, we didn't end well. Sorry, May, I meant to call you earlier but it was all so sudden and it only happened a couple days ago. Yesterday overwhelmed me, too, so it was the furthest thing from my mind."

Ash glanced at his best friend, saw her expression of fear and nerves, and looked away again. He wasn't bothered by the fact that she was confessing the truth of the matter to their friends, and it wasn't a bother that it hurt him to know that what she said _was _the truth. He could deal with the fact that her comfort made up for his own masculinity and his own feelings being lost in transition.

What he wanted could be put on hold for now. So he voiced his own concerns on the resolution on the matter, and he voiced them on Misty's behalf.

"We're not together, we're not fucking like rabbits, and we're not exclusive." He made it sound like he didn't mind what they _were _doing. "We're taking a beneficial continuance in our relationship because. . ." Because it's what _Misty _wanted and he knew it was the best he could get from her, ". . . because no one else suited us and this is more convenient and. . . stuff."

Misty fidgeted and May looked her up and down from across the table. The redhead seemed a bit high strung in general, but it was to be attributed to her second failed relationship since moving in with Ash, and her longest one in term. May was sure that was it.

"It's going to be weird but. . . Ash and I also thought it would be nice to go out to eat, just the two of us, and have some fun." She smiled now, as though everything was suddenly okay and acceptable.

"Like a date." Brock nodded in affirmation of this conclusion but Ash looked away again.

"That's not right, I don't think, is it, Myst? That does sound a bit too exclusive, but. . . what else is there to call it, right?" He grunted but didn't look displeased by what turn the events had taken.

"I dunno; when this happened, I didn't think about what we'd actually call it." She snorted as though that were obviously the last thing _to _think about. "We were gonna head out later tonight, after this, because _someone _was a little short in scheduling time." And she looked to Ash now, who jumped an inch or so at the acknowledgment.

"Don't blame me; I'm the one who has an actual job." And he milked the comment for everything it was worth.

"Hah! You call wandering around town twice or so a week and looking for people in need of maintenance work a job?"

"Who are you kidding? I make money! You know what that is, right? The stuff we would be using to pay for that not-a-date we're going on tonight! But - oops! - I'm the only one of us both that actually earned enough!" He glared now, suddenly taking something she said offensively, "And whether you choose to think about it or not, I do have a list of customers who rely on me above anyone else when it comes to things like this!"

"Yeah, well. . ." And Brock and May tuned them both out from there on in, suddenly curious.

". . . Did they just pull that argument out of their asses?" The brunette haired girl asked as she giggled lightly, the lines under her eyes lessened as she stared.

"It makes sense; after this they'll head home and hit the sack together, taking out their frustrations on each other." Brock crossed his arms and nodded again, very sure of himself, "You know they've been winding down to this conclusion for years.

"By the way, May, are you feeling okay? You look. . . _tired_. Or something." And he looked genuinely concerned for her, even more so than he looked huntingly towards the waitress in her short skirt who happened to walk by their booth just then.

"Oh, me? Are you kidding? I'm totally okay. Besides, it's nothing I'm one hundred percent comfortable talking to you about, and Misty's been through much worse this week, I think. I don't want to concern anyone, not when at least a few things might be looking up for some people. . ." And she nudged her head in the direction of their other friends, who had yet to stop arguing.

"Okay, but just remember; what you feel is bothersome to discuss might just be exactly what we have these get-togethers for. Be careful, okay? We don't want you mixed up in the same sort of situation Misty's been in since before she left Cerulean, right?"

Misty had finally heard the turn in conversation and looked at her best gal pal from her seat next to her friend-with-benefits. She was suddenly aware of May's humdrum expression, as though it hit her differently with a change of light.

"He's right; I wouldn't wish my luck on anyone, May." She sighed and leaned forward, "Look, you're as close to me as Ash. I could call you my sister - much more of a sister than Lily or Violet. . . so if anything is ever really bothering you, feel free to call me on my phone, okay? And I don't care if your world is falling upside down or if you broke a nail. If you're hurting, just know that I'm here to help you through it."

The two young women smiled at each other and May knew it was something she should appreciate, having friends who would put her before themselves.

Later on, Ash and Misty would be found preparing for their date in their privates rooms at home in Pallet. It seemed unnecessary, really, to care about appearances and impressions to the extent that they were.

Misty was a lady, so dressing nice when going out at all was normal, but she was being slightly over-extravagant, and knowing this worried Ash. He would have been fine with jeans and a clean shirt of any sort, but the fact that Misty was really trying made it difficult for him not to join her in that.

What did she expect of him? Tame hair? Cologne? Clean-shaven? Would anything be enough, or would it all be too much? She would know he was trying to match her, he was sure, because she was Misty, and it was always easy for her to figure these things out. Impressions were difficult to change between them at this point anyway, right? Especially since they were such close friends already.

He knew he'd settled when Misty had agreed to kiss him with the additional no strings attached. And when she'd agreed to go out with him depending on the no strings attached. And the entire basis for this increase in their intimacy had been the fact that there were to be _no strings attached_. Maybe he had a point to make, and he knew it. Maybe that was why he was almost okay with it; he wanted Misty to see that, no matter what she'd allow herself to give him, it would be alright. Or maybe he was desperate. It was an unfortunate possibility, but it was a possibility just the same.

The fact that Ash Ketchum was - legally and emotionally - an adult now terrified those who knew him best. It was harder to know what to think of him, to know what to expect, because he was never willing to be second best or obvious anymore. And when there was something he wanted more than anything, he would take whatever he could get that would get him close to that thing. That was probably why he could live with this thing he suddenly had with Misty above all else.

Misty, for her part, felt she was reaching. This territory scared her, and she knew it was worse because, while she'd requested no strings, there were more hanging between her and her best friend now than any guy she'd attempted to date before. She and Ash had history, they were best friends after all. She knew it was more worrisome than anything else that she should be wary about anything and everything that could go wrong when dating her best friend. It didn't matter that they weren't exclusive. There was twice as much to lose now anyway.

Add to that the fact that she still had a huge interview to worry about later that week and the fact that she was constantly gripping at nonexistent conversation topics in her mind, and she knew right away it wouldn't work out. She knew what to expect from this, it wasn't the first time it'd happened to her.

If she was this worried about what to talk about while they were out, it would be near impossible to try and come up with anything. If she was this worried, she would be left with an awkward atmosphere between them that would probably be her fault. It would be like chowder, hard to water down with empty words that were used for just that, and not meaningful things that would make them feel closer than before.

She should curl her hair. She should focus on something else, and she knew that a hot iron would be something she'd have to pay attention to.

Misty was just about to place the aforementioned iron to her scalp when her cell phone rang. She jumped a few inches before looking down at the caller ID and recognizing May's mobile number staring back up at her in glowing insignia. A glance at the clock said it had been only three hours since the two girls had seen each other, give or take. . . What could May possibly have to say to her now?

But she told her best female friend that she was someone to depend on! She couldn't disappoint the Hoenn native now, of all times! And so Misty decidedly answered the call.

"Hello, May? What did you need?" She asked almost immediately. She heard strange noises in the background, rabid honking of evening traffic and sniffles from somewhere closer to the receiver.

". . . Are you crying? Why?" She asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer. There was a few seconds of muffled conversation from the other end and Misty's empty hand slammed onto the surface of her dresser in anger. "You're kidding me! God, where are you now? Huh? Really? Okay, okay. . .

"You don't need to keep apologizing to me, May; you're more important than this thing going on tonight. Don't worry. . . I'll be there in about ten minutes."

Misty hurriedly turned off the curling iron and pulled it from the wall to be on the safe side, then she ran towards her bed and grabbed her purse, stuffing her phone in there with one hand while pulling on the first pair of shoes she could find with her other.

She dodged a fallen pillow and reached her door, opening it up just in time to find a worried Ash staring back at her.

"Ah. . . ! I - I mean, what is it, Ash? Did you need something?"

"Wha--? No, I just. . . heard noises coming from your room and they sounded a bit. . . angry, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Misty found she suddenly couldn't look him in the eye, as though she expected him to be disappointed in the news he'd be receiving.

"I'm sorry, Ash, but we'll have to cancel our date.

"Drew just threw May out."

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Notes **- I'm so proud of me now! I've finished this chapter in relatively good time, and I got everything I wanted to happen done! Yes! I was scared it wouldn't work out that way, or that things would seem jumbled, but I think it went okay. I think Ash may have been a little too tender-hearted but I hope the Pokeshippers are okay with that. I thought that him acting that way was the one thing Misty may have needed after what I put her through last chapter. As for anyone wondering if Derek's reason for breaking it off with her will ever come to light, don't bother. I didn't plan on anything to do with it, not even him showing his face again, so it most likely won't happen. Hey, hey; did anyone notice a manga moment or two in there? I mean, like total shoujo manga moments, like the forehead touching and sweet words? I felt like Arina Tanemura expressing her characters through dialogue. Oh, you didn't know? I'm a huge fan of hers (though I think she needs to work on finger shapes in her manga).

I'm so happy though, still. Even through the depression of being told by three or so people in the past week that my sense of humor is not one to be desired (in the form of tense words or argument) and then my house getting broken into and two hundred or more dollars worth of merchandise stolen. . . Actually, to make another comment on the chapter, the argument Ash and Misty had at the bistro was basically my way of saying that, just because they're getting closer, it doesn't mean they won't still be themselves. Who's looking forward to that, huh? Yay!

Oh, let me take this moment to extend a public apology out to **Kitten Kisses**, who may very well be one of those people who takes the things I say the wrong way. If it helps, I've taken a few vows of silence recently. . . I'm trying to learn not to talk to anyone who may take what I say offensively, including a certain coworker and a certain staff member of the company I live with. (Believe me, the company statement sounds more complicated than it actually is.) Again, my apologies to you, Manna, and I hope that this chapter was okay in your grammatically-tuned, shippy, in-character book. Lol. I feel like I need to go back and edit every chapter to your liking now, since there seem to be so many things you don't like about what I read. By the way, remember to cut and paste your review if it comes down to it cutting off again this time around!

Oh, right; a few more things. . . Did anyone also notice how I was winding pretty deeply into the sexual jokes and thoughts? Adults have them, people, so it's hard to ignore, and Ash and Brock and everyone saying things like they were was basically my way of reminding the readers that I would be going there when the time came. There was something else, but I can't remember where that was, so I'll just make one final thing clear. . .

It seems like every chapter I finish gets a review or two from someone saying that it seems like everything is winding down to a close. I want to say right now to **everyone** that that is not the case. There are a few more trials that Ash and Misty need to face, like a certain thing I warned about in the rating area (I think that's where it was). Plus, what about Ash getting put in the hospital for his concussion? (That's not until the last chapter or so, but still. . .) Just to make sure everyone knows, we're not there yet, folks!

Wow, I just went rabid on author's notes again. . . It's been awhile since I've done that. Well, to make it better, I'll end these now and move on to a spoiler! How's that for furthering entertainment?

**Spoiler** - An interlude on Ash and Misty's relationship proves harsh for May's psyche as it seems Drew's rejection is too much for her to bear and she's not sure how to get past them. Misty and Ash alone are there to support her when she runs to them for help, but they find it hard - too - to focus on her problem when it seems they've got a big one of their own; how can they possibly move into the next stage of any relationship when they feel so awkward? Then they help confront Drew, although it seems like Ash is hiding something. . .


	11. And I Couldn't Try to Appreciate You

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes **- I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Eleven **- "And I Couldn't Try to Appreciate You"

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **March **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially started **March 22, 2008**.

**O**o**O**o**O**

". . . I'm sorry, I'm sorry; God, I'm _sorry_. . . !" May wailed half-heartedly in a muffled tone that Ash and Misty could barely understand. "I know you guys had plans but I didn't. . . I didn't know who else to call! I just knew something was wrong, but I didn't expect this!"

"Wait, wait; what is _this_, anyway?" Ash asked uneasily, sighing as he took a seat. He tried not to look too disappointed in the fact that his plans with Misty had come to a sudden halt and attempted a sympathetic air.

The three of them were sitting in his kitchen at the dining room table, where the youngest one had been rescued and brought to. Ash was half dressed in his white cotton shirt with only three-fourths of his buttons done up, and Misty's hair had fallen out of its braid after she'd run from the home in order to track her best friend down.

May looked up with watery crystal eyes and sniffled. She looked around the kitchen of the Ketchum house and found herself feeling morbidly upset. She had hoped to have something like this with Drew someday. . . The dream house with the white picket fence and the vegetable garden in the backyard. She thought the two of them had been getting close to it, too, until. . .

"You remember that time months and months ago? Drew went away on business overnight and I came to stay with you two? It was a very slow thing after that. At first I noticed that he was a little short with me in conversation, but I figured he was just pouting from the joke I'd made with him on the phone. You remember it, don't you?" She asked and looked up at Misty who was standing beside her. "It wasn't that bad, though, right? I thought not anyway. And Drew seemed to get over it, too; there were times that it seemed like nothing was wrong. Almost like everything was going _too _right."

Misty listened to the start of this explanation and felt something curdling in her stomach. This was usually how it went with the guys she dated, too. Things might have been awkward at points, but it never seemed to hold strong in effect towards the outcome of the relationship. . . and then she was suddenly dumped and she never got why.

"I loved him, I love him now, too. Maybe he saw that and decided he wasn't ready for it?" May said, her tone reaching such a high pitch by the end that it tapered off. Her head hit the table (which had only been a few inches from her anyway) and she moaned again. "Too many strings attached or something, or. . . it could be the types of things I started bringing up recently, like marriage and children and stuff. I was too much of a dreamer."

"But. . . when you actually brought it up, how'd he react?" Misty asked, now pink in the cheeks. She had that dream-ish personality when she was younger. Growing up had taught her that things never turned out so simply as what May had hoped; or, rather, at least they didn't for her. But it was something she'd learned to look up to May for, the great relationship with the great guy and the great expectations.

Where had that gone now?

"I. . . don't know. I suppose he was kinda like a guy when he replied. Sort of avoiding the topics or giving mysterious quotes or one-liners that I never thought about. . . until. . . One night a month and a half ago.

"I was coming home after looking around town and it was pretty late in the evening and. . . I heard him on the phone. He was talking to someone, but I don't know who. . . All I know is that he said he had to make sure I was out of the house so he'd be ready."

". . . Ready? For what?" Ash asked with a subtle cough of confusion.

"I don't know. He didn't elaborate. Even so, I didn't think much on it. I figured he was probably talking to some guys he wanted to have a night alone with; you know how it is in those television shows? Card games and beer and stuff like that. I don't mind giving him the space he needs. . . I never did, I swear. . . !" May's sniffs and tears grew a little more constant, "As long as he didn't feel suffocated enough to drop me!"

"But. . . I'm sorry, May. I know it's hard to keep talking about it but I want to be able to understand the best I can, and Ash does, too; don't you?" Misty asked, turning and giving her best friend a half-glare that quickly roused him from his hunched position on the chair across the table from the two women.

"Uh, yeah, definitely. Who wouldn't?"

Misty gave the table she was standing at an exasperated glance, knowing it would be useless to show Ash himself, and also fully aware of the fact that it would probably only stress May out more in this situation.

"But. . . there were no other signs?" She finally asked, turning to May and begging for an answer.

"I - I don't know, not that I noticed. . . but even I admit that we didn't see each other as often as I wanted, so there are a couple things I might have missed. . ." She considered, her eyes beginning to dry as she paid most of her attention to the topic at hand. A hand rose to her head, ruffling through her short hair as she tried to think about it.

"May. . ." And the redhead sounded awfully down as she brought the next possibility up, ". . . there may be another lover. He could be cheating on you. . ."

The younger woman seemed to lose all emotion in her body, and Misty wondered if it had simply been drained away. But then her fists clenched on the table and her pupils dilated and she looked as though she was watching the world end before her.

"H - he. . . what? No, no; he wouldn't! He couldn't do that, right?" She turned her eyes on Ash who, for a moment, looked as though he didn't have a proper answer for her. And then he closed his eyes and shook his head so assuredly that both Misty and May had to be slightly curious.

". . . How can you know that, Ash? None of us know Drew as well as May, and she's got no idea what's going on, right?" The redhead asked with slight aggression, not wanting her roommate to give her friend too much hope for the situation.

"I - I don't, that's true, but. . . I like to think on the bright side of things. I know it's been awhile since you've done that, Myst, but. . ." He hadn't even meant it as an insult but she took it that way anyhow.

"What's that mean? Look, Ash, I know a fairytale when I hear it; don't forget who you're talking to! I also know that the likelihood of them existing without fail is low enough not to expect it based on a little bit of happiness in the past! Now, May," and here, the two girls looked at each other for a moment of feminine understanding, "the last thing I want is for you to keep feeling like this. It may take awhile for you to get over the hurt, but until then I'm more than willing to keep you distracted. Okay?"

"You really think that's the best idea? Just ask her to ignore it and not face it for the problem that it may be? You don't think she should - oh, I don't know - actually go back home to try and ask Drew about it? Maybe today?"

"You think that's what I should do, Ash?" May sniffled slightly, looking between the two friends in front of her. They were currently staring each other down, practically ignoring her presence. It seemed that Ash's words weren't even for her sake anymore; more like he was trying to make a point to Misty.

"Okay, then; I'll call him right now and ask him for myself why he thought the best idea for being alone today was to kick me out. . ." She sighed, coming to terms that she was emotionally alone for the moment, and got up from her seat. She maneuvered around Misty and found her way to the video-phone in the other room. She was halfway to dialing her own apartment number when she felt a sudden grip on her hand and her motive faltered.

"Maybe. . . _now_. . . isn't a good time." Ash said sheepishly.

". . . But you were the one who told me to do it, _right_?" She asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Yeah, but if he really was angry enough to tell you he needed the place to himself and that you had to get out, then he might need some time to vent. Guys aren't like girls; when they're mad, they don't want someone around to see it. Believe me, I would know." He finished.

"Ash, just because you think you're a man doesn't mean the rest of us do - and it also doesn't mean that your reaction to certain situations is the same as every other guys, either." Misty scoffed, coming up behind him. "And you _were _the one who told May she should confront Drew for his stupidity, weren't you? Why the sudden change of heart?" There was the faintest smirk on her face at his discomfort, as if she knew he didn't want to give them an answer.

"Yeah, but. . . pushing him into telling her what she wants to know is just gonna make him say something even worse than before. . . I think." And he seemed truly contemplative as he considered this.

Strangely enough, so did Misty. Perhaps she was simply too shocked by his sudden intellect but she turned to May either way and urged her to place the receiver back on the base.

". . . You know what; you may be right, Ash. May, let's go for now. You, me, and him can head down to the mall and do some shopping or. . . something. And then, by tonight, you'll have a new outfit or two - or seven - and a mindful of courage and violently creative license so that you can give Drew a piece of your mind. How does that sound?" She asked, turning to the younger woman.

May nodded, finding herself unable to trust her own voice anymore, and got up to grab her coat from where she'd hung it over the back of her chair in the kitchen.

**O**o**O**

Unfortunately, the mood only seemed to go from bad to worse. Ash walked in silence behind the two women, one of which was behaving overly cheerful while the other was constantly rubbing at her temple.

"Oh, I've heard this place is really well-known for their beaded jewelry! The designs and colors always draw you in!" Misty grabbed onto May's arm and began to pull, "C'mon, let's go check it out! I think you'll like it; and you might find something that suits you!" She shoved the Hoenn native forward and May stumbled into the store as if she had no will of her own that would convince her to do otherwise, before turning to Ash.

"What's your problem?"

"Huh?" He replied in confusion. Misty hadn't said anything to him since they left the house, and it was the only thing he could come up with on such short notice.

"_'Huh?_'" She mocked with an expression of fake wonder, "Yeah, Ash; I'm talking to you. I don't get it, you've been acting really weird. I mean, not knowing what to say to May in general I get; you're a guy so you don't understand girls like that. But then telling her to talk it out with Drew before taking _that _back, too? It's like you're trying to hide something o - or protect Drew! You aren't doing that, are you? You do know what he did, right? Or did you miss the part where May cried for over a half an hour about what he said to her that had chased her out, how he told her he didn't want her there anymore."

"Well, maybe. . . I dunno. Couldn't she have misheard? I don't get girls much, that's true, but I seem to distinctly remember once or twice where you got offended after someone said something that wasn't what you assumed it was," Ash shrugged, his eyes closed and his arms crossed. . . and then yelped when Misty slammed her heel down on his sneaker.

"Agh! Ash! Men and women are two different species - no, not two different halves of a species! I mean two completely separate life-forms that somehow manage to coexist. How you've lived this long without one of us killing you is something amazing to me!"

". . . Well," he groaned, his face scrunched up in pain as he hopped on one foot, "if it makes you feel better, you've gotten pretty close to killing me more than once. . ."

"Hmph!" Misty replied with indignance, refusing to grace him with an answer. Instead, she stalked up to May, who had been standing a few feet ahead of them. Her eyes had been roving the small stores and stands around her before glancing finally at the one right in front of them. It was the jewelry place Misty had pointed out before. With slight hesitance, May's eyes dropped to her left wrist, the one that held the sterling silver bracelet clasped to her arm. There were small rubies set parallel to the Pokeball that was centered.

"May, what's wrong now?"

"O – oh," she didn't know how to answer honestly without collapsing into tears again. "I can't remember if I showed you, Misty. Did I ever tell you that Drew bought me this?" She raised her hand higher and everyone's eyes followed it, including Ash, who had just followed his roommate over.

"Um, you might have mentioned it. But you've had it for awhile now, right?"

"Yeah, almost four years. I tried to take good care of it all this time because Drew had told me that this was his way of promising he'd always be there for me. When I wake up and when I go to bed. And if anything ever happened to him – God forbid – then this would be there to protect me from harm. That's why he made sure to place a Pokemon there. He asked me to pick which one I wanted and, well, you know. . . He and I trained Skitty together before she evolved. That's why I chose her."

Misty blinked. She'd rarely heard anything so romantic before this day.

She whipped her head in Ash's direction only to see he was staring off at the food court. She would assume that this just meant he was hungry for something that would most likely clog his arteries but then, as she thought of it, he seemed to avoid the conversation altogether when Drew was part of the topic. She sincerely hoped this didn't mean he agreed with Drew's words and his side of the situation because, if that was the case, she _would_ have to kill him. Painfully. With little remorse.

Deciding that she didn't want to look at the stupid thing anymore, May slapped her other hand over her wrist and let them both fall. She couldn't bring herself to take it off, but it didn't mean she had to enjoy the sight of it sitting there.

Stupid Drew. He had always been such a sweet talker, always telling her things she wanted to hear and doing things she loved to see him do. Stupid, stupid Drew. . . ! He made her feel special and wanted and he constantly aimed to please her. At some point May had started to assume that it was just the way he did things, although there had been at least once where he had told her of how hard he tried to get them to where they were. She'd sacrificed everything for him! She gave up running the Gym back in Petalburg, she gave up life as a professional Coordinator, she gave up the everyday sight of her parents and her brother and her friends. . . ! And what did she have to say for it now?

She had given up her first kiss.

It hadn't even been a big deal until today, quite honestly. May did not live in dreams of the early 1900's when a first kiss with a boy was supposed to be a turning point. She had always known – or at least expected – that she would go from boy to boy two or three times. She would try them on and see how it went, relationship-wise. She hadn't expected to fall in love with some kid who chose to keep secrets, who fought with an instinct she couldn't handle at first and who would actually begin to teach her how to be better than she was.

She had been fifteen when Drew had told her, with a tone that didn't even dignify romance, that he could see them spending the rest of their lives together. Thinking back on it, he might not have been saying he was in love with her, and he might not have been asking that they go out together, begin a relationship, and end up moving in together three years later. He could have meant it strictly platonically. But May had decided when he told her that that she agreed with him one hundred percent. Outside of family and beyond her friends, they had so much in common; they were at ends and yet got along so well. She could never tell him that she couldn't stand him because, at the same time, he ignited her fire, he made her believe there was a purpose in what she did everyday, he gave her a reason to fight, he made her feel things among her irritation and anger that she hadn't understood at first. . . but then it caught on and she lived in fear that she was the only one of them feeling this way.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ Drew. . . !

"Misty, Ash. . . I don't feel so good. Can we sit down somewhere?" May asked. Misty began fussing and helped her over towards a bench that was nearby.

"Are you thirsty? I could get you something," Ash said, nodding his head towards the many restaurants merely two minutes away.

"Uh, sure; I guess that's okay. I just want to. . . sit down. It doesn't matter where we go." May gave the strongest smile she could, which wasn't that strong anyway, and then added, "Actually, let's just go there together. I want to put my head down, too."

"Okay, yeah, let's do that," her redheaded friend quickly stepped forward again, taking May's hand in a firm grip and leading both she and Ash off towards the tables ahead of them.

May had barely sat down before her shoulders crumpled and her cheek hit the glass tabletop. She didn't think it would feel like this. Actually, that was a lie. She had known she wanted to always be with him after all. She had known that she could never afford to lose him. And now that she had, now that she had selfishly cried herself out over it, she realized. . . it simply didn't matter anymore.

She hurt everywhere. It was emotional and mental, and at the same time just as physical. Her chest ached and she could have assumed it was her heart, though it seemed melodramatic and only reminded her of what had happened, so she told herself that it was just congestion. Her stomach tumbled over and over but she supposed that would be the stress. What would she do now after all? Her head pounded almost constantly. She had thought it was Misty's behavior that was getting to her, but all the redhead was doing now was staring around as she lay there in a lump, and that wasn't really so annoying.

Ash had gone up to the nearest stand and asked for a few waters.

And still she felt as though no known number of drinks could help to quell the pain. Nothing would give her the refreshing bit she needed to start crying anew and nobody could say the right words to make it seem alright anymore. The loss was too great.

She would be better off dead, she decided with a long sigh. This was no middle school crush that she could see herself getting over.

". . . Please don't look like that, May."

Slowly but surely, the brunette twisted her neck around and faced her friend, who wasn't even glancing at her, rather enjoying the view of Ash's shoulders from a distance.

"Why not? Give me a reason."

"You can't let him get you down; you don't want him to win you over again. He doesn't deserve you if he can't think that he did anything wrong, if he can't call you up with an explanation as to why he said what he said.

"I've been there before, you know I have. Every guy you'll ever get together with will make you happy at first. It's an unreliable bliss and it won't ever last. It's why I can't see myself getting serious right now, not even with Ash. And it means a lot to me that he would tell me how he feels, that he would want to do anything to keep me smiling. . . but if anything were to happen to him or to us, I might just fall apart. It's not even on a romantic level. I tried really hard to get to know you and him and Brock again when I came back. Thankfully, you all hadn't changed too much. Ash was so lonely, though, and behind all the jokes, I had been upset before moving in with him because I was reminded of the fact that I had made sure he wasn't alone during his Pokemon journey when we were younger.

"I wanted to be that to him again." Suddenly, Misty's piercing blue-green eyes were staring her down.

"But it doesn't bother you to think you're maybe missing out because you won't give him more of a chance?" The Hoenn native asked in response.

"The way I look at it is that. . . Ash and I have been close since I was twelve. We lost some of it for awhile, but we're gaining it back - and now our bond gets stronger everyday. He respected me enough to make my own way to him, to make my own decisions and mistakes. . . and if he can't respect - on top of all those things - that I might need more time before I'm ready, then he doesn't deserve me feeling so much for him."

"But. . ."

"I always envied you."

"What?" May's eyes widened. She had wondered once or twice, but it was never something any good person would hope for; that your friends would be jealous of you. "Why?"

"You and Drew were the match made in heaven; you've been together since you were kids, even when you weren't together. . . ! I'd thought for a few years that Ash and I would be like that, too, even if we didn't last. . . but he never caught on to it and I eventually moved on to other possibilities. I grew up and grew out and when I started getting the looks that I'd always hated my sisters for receiving. . . I couldn't help it. But it never seemed serious, even to me. The one or two times it started heading in that direction, something would go wrong. And in between all of those misshapen relationships, I would meet with you and the others and hear you go on for an hour at a time about how wonderful you and Drew were doing, how happy, how perfect. Nothing ever got you down." There was the tiniest grin on her face as she finished her statement.

"I guess all ladies want that kind of thing at some point, huh?" And May gave a faint laugh that lasted only a split second. She dropped her eyes to the glass she was resting her head on again soon after, acting as though she hadn't let that moment of humor pass through her.

"Don't, May! Okay, I get it. . . For someone like you, this kind of snag is traumatizing! Even if you don't think you'll get over it, you will, and I'm going to be there every step of the way to help! But before that, I want you to do what I've never felt it necessary to. May, how many years were you two together? How much time did you waste on him?" Her voice escaladed as she went on. "Don't you have a few things you think he should know after the way he treated you? If you need help writing the script, I'm totally game!" A fist collided with the table and May, not expecting it, jumped. Her shoulders stretched and adjusted themselves and she sat up straight just as Ash began his walk towards the two of them.

". . . Script? Maybe, but what is there to say that I have a right to?" She asked, sounding just as hopeless as before. Still, underneath the table, her hands clenched tightly around her blouse. It was probably wrinkling and yet she felt as though something new was overcoming her.

Something that mattered.

"Drew's an ass if he thinks you'll just walk away and be ruined by his words!"

". . . Is he?"

"He doesn't know any better if he thinks you can't find someone else to replace him!"

". . . Um, I guess. . ."

"Someone to make you smile five times as often as he was ever able to!"

". . . Well. . ."

"And you'll be happier and have everything you ever wanted!"

"I will?"

"And you'll be able to look him in the face and laugh because he won't stand a chance against the person you've become!"

"I will!"

"Yeah, and you'll have become that person because you made the right choice in _letting_. . . _him_. . . _go_!"

"You're right, Misty! Yeah! He won't get me down! He won't upset me anymore! When we get back to Viridian, I'm going to tell him off and get my things and show him that I don't need him around to be a good person! I was just fine before I met him and I'll be just as fine after we're finished!"

"That's right, May!"

"Yeah!" And May snatched one of the water bottles from Ash's hand. He blinked, having just walked in on both of his female companions standing tall with expressions of great determination on their faces. It seemed as though they had a mission in finding May's ex and laying it on him thick.

And he had no say in the matter anymore.

Misty grabbed a second water bottle and both women chugged down the contents all at once before capping them again and tossing them in the nearest trashcan.

"C'mon, Ash! We're heading off to Viridian! May has a few choice words that Drew better have time to hear!" Misty's voice was strong and loud and attracted some attention, but the trio quickly took their leave and no eyes bothered to follow them.

Cursing under his breath, Ash removed his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number, keeping a safe distance from his friends so that they wouldn't overhear his conversation.

**O**o**O**

There was a silent debate between the three of them as to whether or not it was worth knocking on that apartment door. Misty was all for busting it in. After all, technically, May still lived there and if Drew needed an excuse they would say she was back to get her things. Ash felt that, even if he was an asshole who had no respect for a woman's feelings and needed to learn the meaning of respect (by Misty's definition), he still deserved some means for privacy. May went for something in between in the end, pulling out her keys and unlocking the door as silently as possible.

At this point, she was all for making her ex feel as uncomfortable as possible, but at the same time, she'd hate to attract their neighbors into the situation. . .

The key was jammed in the doorknob and turned swiftly, removed. There was an extra effort into not showing anyone on the other side of the wall that someone was trying to get in.

The sight that reached them all as she stared ahead was almost enough to make them stop breathing.

It was like a birthday party, or worse. An adult relative and child relative who shared the _same _birthday, and therefore were sharing a party as well. Streamers and balloons and popular music were impacted with alcohol and adults discussing crude jokes and television shows from a few evenings before.

"What. . . what's going on?" Both girls blinked in confusion.

". . . Don't tell me that the first thing he'd do after making sure you're gone would be to throw a party. . . ?" Misty asked, turning to look at the younger woman.

"I - I. . . I don't. . ."

"I thought you said you could keep her out," came a voice from around the archway leading into the kitchen. Out came Drew, followed by Brock, who avoided looking in the direction of the two girls and continued to place the two trays of appetizers on a table near the stereo.

"What's going on here anyway?" Misty asked in a loud and skeptical tone. Unfortunately, it started drawing attention and Ash was suddenly sure that she'd be getting an explanation just to avoid the likely confrontation she's cause otherwise.

"D - Drew, what are you doing?" May asked, her voice dropping a few notches. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to face this. What could she really say if he was celebrating her leave? She hated the fact that her courage had failed her so miserably. "Why are all these people here?"

She vaguely recognized a few of her neighbors and their children; it was hard not to when she was avoiding looking at Drew as much as possible and had found a good distraction on tailing Brock with her eyes, who was floating around everyone as stealthily as possible.

"I'm setting up for a party." He replied bluntly, and she blinked again, somehow having forgotten in those ten seconds that she'd asked him a question. "Why did you have to come back?"

She knew that she was having trouble forming words to suit a formidable reply to his accusation, and was grateful for Misty standing up for her.

"Now wait just a second! What right do you have in throwing this party? What is there for you to celebrate? Oh, I swear," she turned towards May as she growled, "let me hit him, just once, just to make a point. I promise it won't stay swollen for too long."

"No, Myst, back off. This isn't your problem." Ash said, trying to pull her towards him, but she ripped her arm away and stared at him accusingly as well.

"And what did he mean, huh? You were supposed to keep May away? Keep her distracted so she wouldn't ruin Drew's night alone with all these people? You do see what your ignorance has done to one of your friends, right? She's crying because you forced her into waiting it out until now and then made her arrive in time for all of this. . . !" And the redhead took a moment to throw her arms around her.

Despite her tears, May made an effort to cover her face. She felt slightly ashamed knowing that everyone was staring her down, and Misty had undoubtedly made quite a spectacle out of her. She wished she had it in her to say something now, but. . .

"Misty, c'mon, calm down. You don't know what you're saying. . ." Ash tried to slow her rant, but it only fueled the fire.

"No, Ash, hell no! I thought you were better than this! I thought you were the gentleman, the guy everyone could count on! But I guess your motives are clear now! I just have to ask you how you could stand to work as a wingman under someone as. . . as. . . _evil _as him!" And she made sure to stress the word and point haphazardly.

"It's really not what you think, okay?" He turned a pleading gaze on Drew, who sighed and shrugged.

"Well, it's not like there's any chance in making sure the whole thing's not ruined now, thanks to you. . ." He cleared his throat, nodded to Brock, who took the initiative in distracting the guests, and walked towards the three newest entries.

May found it hard to look at him and so she buried her face in Misty's shoulder, who comforted her with a woman's touch, making sure to continue glaring daggers at the guy approaching her and her friends.

"May, c'mon, look at me. It's not like I was trying to hurt you or anything. I mean, this is _your _party, you know."

"What?" May sniffed, showing her face a bit.

"Yeah, I made it big, just like you always told me you wanted. You said you wanted everyone there who could make it, and you wanted champagne and music and the spotlight. You've got everything working in your favor now, so I guess that means we should get the main attraction started. Though it is a little short notice."

"What are you talking about?" She shrieked, suddenly finding her voice. She tore away from Misty and stomped forward. "You kicked me out and put together a party after I was gone? You think I wanted this? That I wanted to get attention like this? Are you fucking crazy, you son of a. . ." Her voice broke and she raised her hand to slap him.

"That's what you think, huh?" He said, clearing his throat and effectively stopping her from completing her violent action. "You think that's what I said to you this morning? Man, Ash, why didn't you tell me over the phone that she thought I said that? I would have called her and cleared it up earlier."

"Didn't have the chance, sorry." Ash shrugged, avoiding Misty's fiery gaze, "As you can tell, I've had a certain someone breathing down my neck all day. I did the best I could."

"I told you that I needed you out--"

"--How the hell did you think she would take it, moron? Sounds like she made the right assumption to me!" Misty glowered but Drew continued as though she hadn't said anything.

"--and I was going to add _'for the day' _to the end of that statement, but like a woman, you ran out of here before I got the chance. You two are a catastrophe to mankind, aren't you? Pessimists, always thinking the worst in a situation. Can't blame you, though, May. You've told me about all the bad luck Misty's had in relationships. If she's told you so much, I can only consider the fact that you'd wonder what could go wrong with us, too."

"Wait, wait. . . so. . . you weren't kicking me out?" May asked, another sniffle coming to her.

"Are you kidding? If I was, there would be no point in this, would there?" He jacked his thumb behind him. "Even I wouldn't be capable of twisting _that _knife, right?"

All three blinked and stared at him and he coughed, his throat suddenly parched. He couldn't believe they would think so lowly of him. . . !

"But it's not my birthday or our anniversary, right? And my parents aren't due for a trip home so this couldn't be a reunion either. I don't think I've forgotten anything. What else is there?"

"I've been wondering forever how to put this together. You kept hounding me about it so I knew I'd better put a rush on it, but you weren't very helpful when it came to details. I don't know what words you want to hear at a time like this and I think it would be inappropriate to ask someone else."

There was a moment of shuffling and Drew held up another one of his red roses. May had never thought she'd be so happy to receive one of them. This one was a bit different though; there was a nearly invisible string attached to it.

"Frankly I don't see what's so important about words. I would think the action enough would be able to show that there's nothing to doubt when it comes to us, but since I can't seem to make you feel the same as I do. . ."

He got down on his knee and everyone drew breath. They knew it was coming; they'd seen the movies after all.

"I've known you for almost a decade now. You challenged me, fed my ego and tore it down at the exact same time, made me consider sticking around when I knew I should have been furthering my career. You made me lose face at least once and I tried to quit you, like you were a drug or something. . ." He allowed himself a bitter laugh, "but it was impossible for me, and hopefully only me. I don't think I'd like the possibility of someone else showing up and stealing you away. I might not be able to handle it. You want sweet words, May? You want me to say how I feel to prove that I could never let you go? Fine.

"I've loved you for almost six years and I've tethered you and decided that no one should be able to have you but me. I know nothing could make you happier than me tagging you with something that you could look at everyday and know that you had somewhere to belong. I'll be your home, May; I want you to come back to me at the end of the day and expect me to be here waiting.

"I want you to marry me. Will you accept?"

The bated breath was enough to knock someone over from the tension. Ash had known what was going on from the beginning but didn't think it would come and go so soon. Misty had lost her murderous demeanor and was considering a fan-girl reputation, considering Drew's slam dunk of romantic words. May's face, however, was still blank. No one could tell if she was so excited she'd lost the will to answer, or too faint-hearted.

Finally, words came.

". . . You led me on, made me feel as though my life's been ruined, then tried to patch it up all in one day. I've felt angst and anger and horror and ecstasy all in the past two hours, heard words of comfort, excuses, blatant disregard. . . not to mention the relationship we've had that led up to this! Teasing and ridicule and. . . ! And! Now you're basically saying that I have no choice but to marry you, that it's for the best, that you know it's what I want more than anything. . . As if you know me at all! A proposal is supposed to include sweet gestures and phrases that make a woman appreciate the language being spoken, that make them consider what they'll be expecting tomorrow and the next day and the day after. . . ! All you've said is that it would be in my best interest, like you're going to kill me if I say no! And now you want my answer, after everything you've put me through? You want me to tell you right now, as soon as all this is through, exactly how I feel and if I accept your proposal. . . ? Well, Drew, I've got only one damned thing to say to you!"

For a split second, Drew actually had the decency to look worried. He hadn't expected May to start yelling. Maybe she would squeal, or cry, or maybe get a little smart-assed. . . but yelling furiously as though Hell would have to freeze over for anything good to come out of this. . . ? He would be the first to admit he hadn't really thought it possible of her, especially not now as he was bearing his soul.

And then she threw herself into his arms and the rose dropped from his grip, falling to the floor with a clatter that should have been impossible. Taking a moment to look down, May noticed that the string she'd seen before was tied to a ring, and she hurriedly picked it up.

She ripped the jewel from its appendage and turned a fiery gaze on her lover.

"You're just lucky I'm so in love with you," and she thrust the ring onto the third finger on her left hand, holding it up for everyone to see.

There was applause, and cooing, and a few whoops, too. Misty played the enthusiastic best friend role as well as she could, only to falter halfway through. She hated this. She was so happy for May, really, but. . . she wanted it for herself. She could only dream of the day when she could wake up to someone who held such promise for her, who treasured her the way girls were supposed to be treasured in fairytales.

Until then her dreams would remain only dreams, and she could rarely find herself so disappointed. She wanted to smile, to cry in the "good way," to jump up and down with her best friend like a couple of giddy high school girls. . . but she found herself hard-pressed to do so. Honestly, she couldn't even swallow without choking on her own breath.

"Misty, oh God, Misty! Look!" May still had an arm around her fiancé (as of about five minutes ago), but she took the moment to glance at the redhead. She wanted approval, she wanted congratulations.

Misty smiled and whispered in utter silence, "Good for you." She couldn't offer much more than that, otherwise she'd dissolve into tears that she wouldn't like to bother explaining.

May was stolen away from them by the group of happy guests who had come just to bear witness to the event, and Ash took the initiative.

"Something wrong?" He asked, stepping up to her side.

"Oh. . . no, what do you mean? I don't look like something's wrong, do I?" And then, under her breath, ". . . I hope not, anyway. . ."

"Hm, dunno." He shrugged. "Just looks like you want to do something or say something but part of you won't let that happen. Do you have something good you want to say to May, or something bad you want to keep to yourself? I won't hold it against you if you tell me. We've all been bitten by negativity before."

"But. . ." She didn't want him to know. If she were as honest as she could possibly be, she would admit that she didn't want anyone to know, but most of all him. He'd already managed to make her life so good and _wholesome _and. . . she didn't want to be the one who ruined it, as she seemed prone to doing. She'd already admitted to one person about her jealous urges today; it wouldn't be in her best interest to spill the beans to someone else as well.

Deciding that she had made the right decision, she shook her head.

"Nah, Ash. I'm too happy for May; I don't know what to say to make today any better for her, and I guess that's a bit difficult to believe."

"Yeah, I get it. Misty's always gotta have the last word, huh? And you two weren't even fighting." He avoided her hand as she raised it as though she were going to try hitting him, and laughed with an afterthought. "Still, you don't have to worry. I know you'll find a way to get that happy someday."

She blinked as she looked up at her roommate, not sure what to say.

"What? I mean, I may not be so desperate as to let you become that person in my life, but - hey! - there are plenty of other guys that I can't speak for. I mean, especially those who make a habit to meet with their therapists every week; I'd say those wouldn't be only the best catch, but also your best bet. They'd have a way with coping with you always being around, wouldn't they?" He laughed louder when she comprehended what he'd said and made the extra effort to kick him in the shin.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Notes **- Oh my goodness, I did it. I'm so proud of myself. I'll be the first to admit that I was scared of how to portray Drew in this chapter. It was the only one where he had any lines (that I could be sure of from the beginning) so I wanted to do him right. At the same time, however, I knew it was basically impossible since I haven't seen him in a long time, and since he's almost a decade older than he was in the series. Basically, I'd expect him to be far different than he was then.

I tried to keep his cocky element the same. Notice how he proposed to May, saying that he knew it was what she wanted while also trying to humble her and say that he wanted the same. I mean, I like to think that part of him is gentlemanly and another part tries to make him out to be the best of the best. It's a hard complex to grasp, but I tried.

It was a big chapter for Misty, too, I think. It's her turning point. Every time she gets knocked down, something picks her back up and makes her hope for the highlights of any life to take place in hers. She wants to fall in love - real love - and to get married and have kids. It doesn't even come down to the dog and the vegetable garden and the white picket fence. She wants to be happy more than she wants to experience her own fairytale anymore, more than she wants to show up her sisters, too, and escape them. I tried to generalize these emotions rather than center in on Ash being the one she sees herself with. I didn't want to go too far, too fast. Even so, I knew it was the perfect thing; that is, to have Ash be the one consoling her for having such thoughts and feelings.

As for Brock, not much action from him. Basically, he and Ash knew about the probable engagement from the beginning. Brock offered to cook for the party and Ash offered to keep May out of Drew's hair for the day (as flippy and hot as it is) so that he could put everything together. Drew didn't want to lose his element of surprise, considering May had told him a few times (as mentioned in this chapter and maybe one or two before it) what she wanted when it came to marriage, and the exact words of the man proposing to her. Unfortunately, when he tried to lose her, she wouldn't budge, and when he specified that he needed her gone, she took it the wrong way, supposing he wanted her gone for _good_. Thus, why Ash tried to convince her she was wrong while still keeping her away from Drew at the same time.

He did a pretty good job, I think; if he'd not been caught in that long line at the mall getting those waters for the three of them, I think he could have stalled her for another hour or two.

On another note, I wanted to let everyone know a few things.

A.) My birthday is on the eighth of September! Gift me with lots of reviews and positive criticism!

B.) I'm going on a trip to Florida (first time ever) from the second through the sixth of September (back just in time for my birthday). I'm flying (first time ever) and staying at a resort (first time ever) and will be (according to the resort webpage) five miles from Disney World (first time ever). I don't think it matters, I doubt I'll have the chance to see what it's like, but the facts are exciting for someone like me.

Lastly, before the spoiler-thing, I wanted to thank all of the reviewers with every ounce of my being. I've reached over two hundred reviews for only ten chapters! I'm so excited! I didn't think it would happen (averaging out how many reviews I got per chapter), but it did and I'm so proud of everyone who took their time to write me and tell me what they thought. I'm grateful - so grateful - and can only hope that things continue on that smoothly. I wish there was something I could actually do to even the score, but the only thing I can think of is to keep writing.

I hope that's a suitable response.

Still, if anyone would like me to - say - dedicate a fic or chapter to them, let me know. I'm more than willing to give it a try; if you think my stories are worth having a dedication (which, supposedly, some of them are).

Until next time. .  .! (_Whew_! Author's notes are done now!)


	12. Anymore Than I Do Already

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes **- I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Eleven **- "Anymore Than I Do Already"

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **March **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially started **March 22, 2008**. (And posted over a year and a half later! Yay!)

**O**o**O**o**O**

Ash and Misty made it home in one piece. There was a slight distortion to the vision, but they had both come to terms with it by now. After hours of drinking and mellow conversation and gratitude, after May had come to cry on Misty's shoulder for obvious reasons and Misty had cried back (though May didn't necessarily understand why), every negative feeling had been put to rest for now.

The house never looked so empty as when they walked through the front door. Ash liked to think that, with Misty there, it was _full _- even if not physically - but that was impossible. He remembered the good old days; as a teenager he would come and go after months of adventures and training. His mom would be there for him and his friends, offering applause at his performances and a nice, home-cooked meal that he couldn't turn down.

Trying not to think too much on it, he wondered if it had ever looked this barren for his mom.

His Pokemon would escape their Pokeballs and frolic in the yard while he was forced to help tend the garden (which Misty, or May, or _whoever _would adamantly avoid) and it would be fun.

It proved he was still that much of a child, the way he thought that it was something that wouldn't ever end.

At sixteen, he still traveled to different tournaments, earning badges and making more friends and acquaintances. Everyday he expected Jessie, James, and Meowth to approach him on the road and threaten to steal his Pokemon. . . and everyday he made them scatter.

Today, and for previous months and years, Ash admitted that he took those friends for granted at the time. He never assumed that there would come a time when he wouldn't see them every morning, when he wouldn't be able to wish them goodnight or good luck. To think that losing Brock, Tracey, and Misty hadn't taught him that invaluable lesson; that friends weren't always going to be around.

There was a particular series of events, however, that helped him to see things differently.

_He glanced left, then right, then the ever-conspicuous forward. Nothing was there._

_That was suspicious in itself, of course, but Ash chose to ignore it. Maybe it was just his lucky day, maybe he'd finally escaped them, maybe he could finally travel safely and assuredly and stay on schedule and --_

_-- Oh, wait; there they were._

_The circumstances were that May had left for Johto, Max had returned home to help his father at the Gym, and Brock had gone to see two of his siblings off as they started on their own Pokemon journey. And so Ash was traveling alone, temporarily of course. He promised to meet up with Brock again in the closest town after they'd both finished whatever they needed to do._

_It was almost paranoid, the way he kept his eyes out for Team Rocket when he had no back-up._

_"You okay, Pikachu?" He had asked, and his friend, sitting comfortably on his shoulder but just as aware of the surroundings, nodded. "Good; let me know if you see anything, 'kay? We can't be sure, can we?"_

_But that was right before he caught sight of them._

_The three weren't even attempting to hide themselves, just sitting there casually on the side of the road, as though they had taken an extra opportunity to breath, rather than plan some ridiculous way to outdo him._

_So Ash settled on one thing; either they'd forgotten themselves or their newest trap was so well-made that they didn't think he stood a chance no matter what he did._

_Considering their past record, he chose to approach them._

_"What do you think you're up to?"_

_Jessie rubbed her temple and James offered to run and find some aspirin. Neither of them seemed to notice him, but Meowth offered a reply._

_"Wha'cha talkin' about, twerp?"_

_He coughed, wondering how they could be so dimwitted, but continued talking anyway._

_"No disguises, no hiding place, no lures to drag me in. . . What, have you given up? C'mon, I was starting to enjoy waking up everyday, knowing you three would be there. I was getting pretty used to it." He gave a semi-hollow laugh to show he was lying, but still braved a curious glance._

_"We don't have time for that anymore, okay?" Jessie stated irritably, trying to make her headache disappear, "We have to worry about how we're going to eat, and where we're going to sleep, and what to do now."_

_"What are you talking about? You guys don't eat! I always wondered how you dealt with it, but you have so. . . and you guys sleep outside, like you always do, like _I _always do. And what you do now is think up some clever way to take Pikachu while leaving yourselves completely open to attack in some way and wait for me to send you packing."_

_"Why should we do that?" James asked with an incredulous tone, standing up to look at him face-to-face._

_"Because you've been doing it for years. What's so different now?" Ash blinked curiously as the three face-faulted in front of him._

_"I can't believe d'at! Were we really like d'at?" Meowth asked, turning to his comrades._

_"Like hell we were; don't feed us those lies, twerp, what about the time we - we, uh. . ." Jessie was on her feet with her arms crossed and tapping her foot against the ground. "Hm. . ."_

_"Even so, there's no way we've been at it for years!" James shouted suddenly, stepping up with his fists raised. Then his eyes widened as he remembered mishap after mishap and his gaze dropped dejectedly to the earth. "Holy. . . Jessie, what happened to our lives? We've spent almost seven years trying to steal Pokemon and stalking a teenager!"_

_"Yeah, no wonder da boss let you two's go!" Meowth laughed contemptuously._

_"Who are you kidding, cat? He said he never wanted to see your face either!" Jessie shouted with a stomp of her left foot._

_Ash was more than ready to step back and let the three settle it on their own. Though he was impressed with the fact that none of them had noticed all the time that had flown by or how many failures they'd been capable of, and though he was curious about how they'd lost their positions, he knew it wasn't his business._

_"Meowth! Now I'll neva' be top cat!" He wailed in response to Jessie's comment, his paws on his cheeks._

_Ash sighed. He really had no part in this, he decided, and turned to be on his way._

_Then James sighed, almost as though mocking him, "C'mon, guys; we don't have time for arguments and yelling. . . We gotta find a place to stay the night."_

_Barely five steps had been taken when Ash knew for certain that all of their eyes were on his back. Pikachu glanced at him with an innocent yet understanding expression (though she seemed to be trying to fake confusion), knowing it was the reaction he wanted to give._

_". . . I'm heading to the next town. If you swear on your lives that you're not going to pull anything at the last minute, you can come with me." He gave in without a moment's hesitation. Screw it, the fact that he was such a nice guy! But he hated seeing people suffer, even his so-called mortal enemies._

_Jessie, James, and Meowth jumped at the chance to tail him with his permission, and all of them ended up walking in silence. No one really knew what to say. Before Ash knew it, they had reached their destination, where Team Rocket (or "ex"-Team Rocket) happened to mention they didn't have money to stay the night anywhere, so - being a nice guy - he leant it to them. Of course, he never expected to get it back anyway. And it was only when the dastardly trio happened to look at him with giant tears in their eyes that he realized he had made the right decision, that they had been telling him the truth for possibly the first time in the seven or so years they'd known each other._

_Being off the Team Rocket payroll meant that the group had no access to their funds. They had no means of living until they could find jobs, no place to stay long-term, and no way of eating everyday. Brock contacted him during the few days he stayed and helped his former enemies get acclimated, during that time also being introduced to the possibility that they wouldn't be stalked any longer during their journeys. He met up with Ash and both of them plotted with Jessie, James, and Meowth._

_"What do you guys want to do for the rest of your lives?" They asked._

_All three glanced automatically at Pikachu, James even rummaging through their simple two bags of supplies for rubber gloves, before they specified better._

_"Something _other _than stealing Pokemon!"_

_"Oh." The three baddies stated as though they'd never considered anything else._

_"Well," Jessie turned to James and Meowth, who nodded, "I guess we've always been natural entrepreneurs; we could start our own business."_

_". . . Really? But. . . wouldn't that cost a lot of money, which you don't have any of whatsoever?" Ash asked, turning to Brock to be sure._

_"Thousands; you have to rent the building and hire employees and buy supplies for maintenance and production. Plus there's even more. How do you plan to get that far?" He asked, a thoughtful hand to his chin. "Owning a business is no easy feat, believe me. I want to open my own Pokemon grooming salon someday, and I'm still saving up the money."_

_"We can get a loan, right?"_

_"You need assets that they can hold as collateral for one that large."_

_"Well, how about investors?"_

_"How many people do you know that would be willing to lend you guys money for a business endeavor _you _aren't even sure about yet? And, until then, you'll need a place to live and means of surviving." He sighed, knowing that the conversation was barely getting them anywhere, and that it was also getting the three facing him down, ". . . Do you even know what you plan to do more specifically?"_

_"We have no idea," they all stated in unison and in dull tones._

_"How about a. . ." And Ash's mind swung around the room, over the television, other people, ads on the walls, flyers. . . ". . . How about a restaurant? You guys have done that kind of thing before anyway, so no one can say you lack experience."_

_The dastardly trio's eyes lit up in unison. It wasn't a bad idea; and they could start small, too. No need to run themselves into debt from the beginning. They could rent a kiosk and sell from the road, earn a reputation, save money earnestly, and move on up from there._

_The decision was finalized and Ash and Brock gave their former enemies a couple thousand dollars (saved from their years of Pokemon training) to get them on the go. That way they wouldn't be sleeping beside their cart outside every night. Hopefully, by the time that money ran out, they would have begun to earn their own living._

_But even as Ash walked away with his two old friends, wishing his three new ones all the luck in the world, he couldn't help feeling that he might just miss the sight of them. And the uncomfortable tumbling in his stomach, and in his chest, was not so new, but it was stronger than it had been before. Everyone was moving on. . . What was he supposed to do when he felt like his own dreams weren't getting any closer? Was he even happy doing what he'd been doing for the past six years anymore? The pattern was ridiculously mundane and he wasn't sure if he could stand it much longer._

_Brock had reason to travel; he was saving money from victories and competition and gaining experience so that he could one day open up his own business. What did Ash have?_

_Memories of his parents talking about how the Pokemon Master was the greatest trainer in the world, his rivalry with Gary Oak (the notoriously smart grandson of Professor Samuel Oak, expert on anything Pokemon) stemming from that, and the feeling he'd gotten inside during that adolescent stage in his life where he felt like if he could do anything it would be to _become _that greatest trainer in the world. . . But now his father was dead, his mother was a housewife who could only sit and tend her garden and pray for her son's success, and his rivalry with Gary was basically copout. The two boys rarely saw each other anymore._

_What was worse, those prayers and cheers from his mom were almost a waste. Ash hadn't gotten much farther since his second professional competition; the one from the Orange League. Everything else was on such a larger scale and he faced the same stage of defeat every time he took part in one of them._

_He wasn't saying he just wanted to give up, and he wasn't saying he wanted advice on the matter. More than anything he knew that something as drastic as quitting the world of Pokemon training was a decision he had to make himself. His Pokemon - Pikachu, Meganium, Cyndaquil, Charizard, Squirtel, Grovyle, and the others - tried so hard in those tournaments and battles and competitions. If they didn't succeed, it wasn't because they hadn't tried. He _knew _that; he really did. . . If anyone was to blame, it must have been him. Maybe he didn't give them all the right motivation, maybe he wasn't strong enough on a mental level or something._

_And so Ash Ketchum made a decision right then and there. His next professional participation in the League would determine whether or not he continued training. At some point during his journey he had already become accustomed to the fact that there were thousands of young people training everyday for the same title as him and he'd known the effort he put into his own regimen might - at some point - mean nothing, might be moot. He'd given it his all throughout the past few years, had seen some amazing things that he could at least say no one else in the world had seen. He'd been a part of a fair few rare experiences and trailed along with a good amount of battles and theories that even he was still wrapping his mind around. Maybe that was the point of his journey after all; maybe he wasn't supposed to become the Pokemon Master but was, instead, supposed to be in certain places at certain times to benefit certain people and Pokemon. And maybe that's why he felt like he hadn't gotten much stronger in the past two or three years. Had he reached his limit?_

_The feeling that he wasn't needed the way he had been since he'd started training years ago grew only stronger when his mom called him and told him of her good news._

_She and Professor Oak, who had been dating steadily for the past fourteen months or so, were getting married. He'd been so shocked when he first found out that he had literally fallen to the ground. Pikachu had to _Thundershock _him to wake him up at which time his mother continued to explain the situation. It would be a slow-moving engagement, of course. They had all of the preparations in the world to make and she still didn't know what to do with the house because - as was the most likely case scenario - she would be moving in with her husband when the time came._

_She hadn't asked him to come home, hadn't asked him if he wanted to participate in the wedding at all or if he could maybe give up his dream so that she could be happy, but it had all molded so well into his private battle with himself that - in the end - it had worked out the way it had._

_Ash Ketchum gave up professional Pokemon training at age seventeen. He filled out the paperwork with Professor Oak to permanently home his Pokemon at the preserve down the road from his house and the other paperwork was assisted by his mother; it was to change the name on the mortgage contract to his._

_Professor Oak helped to pay off a portion and Ash made the rest doing work in the field of home maintenance. And that was the beginning of a new life for him._

He wondered now if he'd also officially "grown up" around that time. He had faced so much inner conflict and responsibility that he could admit to feeling a few decades older than he really was. He had already _discovered _women and, for some reason he didn't quite understand, had chosen their presence over most others.

He had friends but he chose not to call. He had Pokemon but chose not to visit. He had a new relative or two (though he always got a kick out of calling Gary his nephew-in-law) but chose not to socialize.

Maybe he was scared. Everything was different, another universe, and he had moved on from all that he'd known before. Maybe, to him, dealing with the people who he used to know so well would mean that he was turning back; and he couldn't afford to do that, right? Or he could have just been stupid, as he was often known for. He made his decisions based on intuition and, unless he got lucky, they usually bit him in the ass pretty badly.

Just like his former relationships. He had dated two women for a longer period of time before Misty had come along. He had taken them out on dates, invited them over for the night, made promises that ensured they'd be together even _longer_. . . and then it had all crumbled beneath him. He hadn't known what to do. By that time, he'd reconnected with Brock and May, and Misty sometimes, and they kept asking him what lead to him making the mistakes he had though he never had an answer. He tried his hardest to succeed, to win, to outdo what he'd done when he was younger, and to prove he could withstand any trial he was made to face. . .

Maybe that was the problem after all. Perhaps he'd turned those relationships into too much the competition; and against _no one_, none-the-less. But it was - different? - with Misty. It wasn't really the way his stomach churned when he tried to impress her, the jokes he clumsily introduced to make her smile, the pounding in his chest that felt like the bass on his amp had been turned too high; no, all of that had been the same with the rest of them. But he really knew Misty, didn't he? He'd known her since he was ten, and the fact that they could somehow reconnect after years of separation was something, right? That meant what they had was stronger than what he'd had with the others, right?

Not only that, but Ash found that he liked it when Misty was happy. She didn't have to be happy with him, per say (though it was a definite plus, wasn't it?), but if he could do something - anything - to make her life easier, then he would do it and bear the consequences, whatever they may have been. Her relationship with Derek Martin, for instance. . . He had hated that guy for taking her away so often. They were always out, or he was calling, or she was talking about him. Whatever the case, Ash's words were never more important than _them_. But he'd let it go (after so much prodding and poking from May and Brock). Misty was happy; she was smiling, she was enjoying herself, and she was productive despite the lazy, foggy bliss that she had most likely been feeling that whole time. She had someone who could make her feel like her worst day was perfect; Ash wondered if there had ever been a time when he could have been that guy. He was too immature - (he hadn't even known that girls were a different gender than him; that they were something _different_) - when he met her. Even when he grew to know her too well, she was one of the guys. Her knowledge as a trainer was impressive, but her fashion sense never impacted him as something a girl would wear to make a spectacle of herself. She had rarely made any impression on him unless she was smacking him in the face to make a point about his Pokemon or yelling at him during a battle. He would go so far as to say now that he even felt just a little bit more successful during his journey because she was there screaming at the top of her lungs that he'd better win if he knew what was good for him.

The two collapsed onto the couch in his living room. The silence was somehow stifling but airy-fairy, too. Ash wasn't sure he wanted to interrupt it but his lips opened before he could make sure they were closed.

"So. . . are you feeling better yet?" He asked her, and Misty almost jumped. Apparently, she hadn't expected him to wreck the quiet either.

". . . I guess I'm fine," she smiled almost grimly. "I hate feeling the way I did anyway; my jealousy was uncalled for. And when I think about it enough I'll learn that all I can be for May is happy that she got what she wanted. Besides, I have my own ritual for those kinds of situations."

"Ritual?" He quirked an eyebrow in response.

"Yeah; whenever something happens to someone else and I'm feeling lonely or upset or envious I just think about the parts that would have made it better for me especially. Like, I didn't prefer Drew's attitude when he proposed. He should have made it sound like he was more lucky to have May than she was to have him."

Ash scoffed, not necessarily disagreeing but not wanting to get ahead of himself.

"What do you mean? What were you expecting anyway?"

"Well, considering it was Drew, I guess it couldn't get much better. . . But when _I _get proposed to," Ash choked as she phrased that part of the sentence but she ignored it, "the guy better say everything right. I want him to know that I'm a treasure he can't give up, that I'll be the reason he wants to wake up in the morning. If he can't tell me those kinds of things with a straight face and with the utmost honesty then I couldn't ever marry him."

"And. . . you think that any guy in the world would say those kinds of things, let alone to you?" Ash asked carefully, hoping he wouldn't be hit for his insensitivity.

"Well, Brock used to do it to almost every girl we met so all chivalry isn't lost is it?"

"But hasn't Brock been admitted to continuous outpatient therapy for the past few years? Unsuccessfully of course but. . ."

"_Don't _ruin my moment, okay?" Misty shrieked, elbowing him in the gut. Ash choked on air, not suspecting that move, and continued to cough for the few seconds following. Misty ignored him as her nostrils flared and she crossed her arms. Ash flinched automatically when she started moving, hoping she didn't notice. "Listen, Ash, there are a few things any and every man needs to know if he wants to live happily with a woman. Not surprisingly, a fair few have to do with the proposal."

Not wanting to be assaulted again, Ash sighed and waved her onward with his hand, knowing that trying to silence her would be impossible anyway.

"The first thing is what I said before. Make the woman feel like they're your everything. No one wants to live forever with someone who doesn't appreciate them the way they should be appreciated, especially when it comes to lifelong emotional, physical, and legal bonds.

"The second thing has to do with the reaction to your proposal. A woman shouldn't ever feel embarrassed, angry, or upset by your words. If they should cry then they had better be tears of bliss! You have to say everything just right or face the disappointment on your own because no woman will want you if you can't even talk them into accepting a diamond, gold, silver, or platinum band. I mean, jeez, it's jewelry, you know?" She scoffed.

"The third is the setting, obviously. You _cannot _- and I stress the word - expect a woman to agree to marry you if you can't take her out for a nice meal, or introduce the kind of atmosphere that calms them into thinking only of the best. No fast food, no friends, no strangers (unless the woman is the type to like all of the attention), no _Pokemon_," and she eyed him here, as though figuring he'd have some juvenile reaction to what she said, "no fixtured lighting or distractions. Make it simple, romantic - candles and roses and good food and wine - and know that all of her attention is on you and what a good job you've done, impressing her with your valor." She waved her hand around before continuing. "All of that other stuff can be saved for the engagement party."

"Oh. . . Say, Myst; how did we go from talking about May and Drew to talking about how you want to be proposed to? Kind of awkward, isn't it?"

Misty blinked, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. She fell back next to him against the sofa and sighed, blowing a loose strand of hair in her face.

"Hm, me thinks you're right. So. . . what do you want to do about it?"

"About how you'd like to be proposed to?" He asked in reply, a strange high pitch catching on from his anxiety.

"No, about the date."

"Date?"

"Yes, Ash; our date. Remember, that thing you seemed really excited about earlier," though she didn't even think about voicing her own excitement towards it, "and then you got all weepy and disappointed when May came around, crying about her idiotic, overly-idealistic man candy --"

"-- You mean Drew?"

"Right, _man candy_."

Ash gave her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was still a little more upset than she was letting on. Then again, there was one thing he wouldn't let her get away with.

"Wait, wait - I did _not _get all weepy and disappointed!" He said indignantly, though it didn't last all that long. "And as for our date. . . I guess we should reschedule."

"For when?" Misty asked, leaning back in her seat all too comfortably. Ash thought about how much he admired the way she looked. He hoped he would see that pose many more times. And then he grew slightly unsettled, though not because he worried that he felt so strongly. . . It was just that she looked so _bored_, not just lazily comfortable.

"Tomorrow night." He said it automatically. She whipped around to face him.

"Tomorrow? So soon? Why Ash, I would begin to think you're desperate. . ."

"I am, too." He wasn't so sure about admitting it but he felt like if he didn't take the chance while he had it, that it would flutter out the window. Misty would run from him in some way (mentally or physically) and he'd never know if all of his grief and worry and those stupid emotional bits would go to waste. Thought he expected Misty to laugh at him for it, even being his best friend. She only sat in silence.

"You're right. . . I think I might need this a little bit more than I'd like to admit, too." It was the kind of quiet that could be embraced through even the thickest tension, and they did, Misty's left palm sliding into Ash's right. He nearly jumped, but adults couldn't afford to be so panicky. It wasn't like he hadn't done this before, after all. Perhaps it was just with Misty, but he felt so raw underneath the invisible scrutiny, as though she'd stripped down the image he'd presumed he had as an adult. Now all that was left was the idiotic fourteen year old with the emotional range a grain of rice could withstand.

His thoughts were so thoroughly distracted that he didn't notice her move until her lips were on his. The clutched hand became the clutched hip, followed by the clutched shirt. It began to stretch and wrinkle under her tight grip, _his _tight grip. . . At this point he didn't know anymore because they were both everywhere on each other and he couldn't believe it. They'd moved so fast, from talking about others to talking about each other and themselves, and then they were all over one another and words just weren't enough to communicate anymore.

His hands touched the groove of smooth flesh at her collar bone and he gulped. He was a teenager again. No! No, no; he was an adult. He was a grown man. . . but that didn't matter. He'd known Misty so long, too long. . . and this was new. Why was this new? Why hadn't they ever done this before? All of the sexual tension between them, so much said and so little done over the years. Just what had they missed out on?

_Lucky bastard. . . _Ash thought to himself as he let that same hand begin to travel into the southern territories. She was on top of him, then he was on her, and the kisses were becoming far too frequent. Breathing was labored, and he wasn't sure why, but he was still _very _sure why, wasn't he?

_Lucky. Fucking. Bastard. . . _He couldn't help it, his grip tightening on her so as to let her know he'd never let her go if he could help it. The mood shattered for an instant, her being curious about why he'd nearly hurt her just to keep her physically close.

"Ash, what the hell?"

"Sorry, sorry. . ."

He was instantly very jealous of the guy who would propose to Misty at some point in her life, the same guy who would undoubtedly spend the rest of _his _life with her.

_Lucky, fucking son of a bitch._

OoO

_"So why can't you look at this seriously?"_

Every once in awhile Ash would ask the same question and Misty would already know what he meant by it. He seemed too hopeful and a part of her wondered if it was worth her sticking around for what they had. Should she end it? Should she shoot him down? Should she give him a chance, but while always wondering if that chance was worth giving. Even with him - with _Ash _ - she was constantly on guard now. It's not that she could never trust anyone again. It was just going to take some time.

_"And I'm having fun just. . . having _fun. _Why isn't that enough?" _He assumed that it must have been enough for _her, _anyway. She was tired of having strings attached if strings meant that she would only get hurt over and over in the end. He could see why she would lose her dedication towards any relationship she had the potential of being in. After all, he too had gone through a few bad break-ups. And if it was with any other person, he would tell her she had every right to pursue something shallow but. . . but it was _him_! Just what did she think he'd be capable of doing to her?

So occasionally he would ask her if they could turn a corner with what they had. In the beginning she laughed, maybe thinking he'd been joking with her about it, but then she began to grow irritated. Didn't he get it? Didn't he understand why she was the way she was now? Throughout their dates and their moments, their kissing, fondling, and sex. . . Well, it was fine for her now. Why change what worked? Wasn't there a saying about not fixing something that wasn't broken?

But he seemed to be trying so hard, and it made her wonder why. Not enough to ask, not enough to agree with him, but it did make her wonder.

Unfortunately, after their moment on the couch, he'd felt it even more strongly. He wanted to keep her here, had to do it. If she left. . . It was downright possessive, and he'd never felt it about any other person he'd been with. Yes, he'd been jealous if the woman he was dating at any time would catch eyes with another man, if those men stared at her for a bit too long. . . but he, himself, would be so caught up in the current feeling of their relationship that he'd have a hard time keeping his head afloat long enough to not ask stupid questions, to not move faster than he should. With Misty, it wasn't just about the present. He found himself asking questions about the if's and the when's. He was curious about the future. Their future.

Suddenly it mattered.

So, that being as it was, he had been asking her nearly every thirty minutes about why she was treating what they had so crudely. Why couldn't she see what he saw? He just wanted her to give him a chance. And to think that _he'd _been the one to agree to her terms in the beginning. Maybe they really were polar opposites. Here Misty was, only offering the friendship she always had, plus a little flirtatious personality on the side, while Ash wanted some insurance. He wanted at least the slightest commitment. He had fallen so hard, he was sure he'd nearly broken every bone in his body. It was selfish and boorish, but he needed something from it now.

And luckily, he might very well get it soon enough.

_The Cat's Meow_ - Jessie, James, and Meowth's restaurant, resided on the edge of Pallet Town, near the port to the south. Misty approached it cautiously, though Ash seemed a little overly-familiar with the territory. She knew she could trust them all now, but she still had a strange sense of foreboding as she walked through the main entrance for the first time. That's right. She'd never been there before. Could that be why she felt so nervous?

"Good evening; I'll be right with you!" Called an energetic voice from somewhere in front of her. She couldn't see anything though. She blinked, realizing this place had an almost classy feel to it, and even laughed a little. Who knew Team Rocket had it in them? The podium was empty, which made sense, since they weren't too busy on the weeknights so they didn't need a constant host. Behind that, however, was a wall separating two different seating areas to the left and right. And the wall had a calm waterfall fountain cascading down it, for goodness sake!

She gaped, but she gawked even worse when she finally saw who it was that had called out to her and the ever-smiling Ash.

"Impressive, isn't it?" He asked her, though she was interrupted before she had even formed a reply.

"Oh, Ash! Table for two, I guess?" Simone smiled brightly as she walked up, plucking two menus from the podium and leading them to the right, that which the sushi bar sat on. Behind it, James was slicing a raw salmon filet, though he nodded at everyone with his head. He couldn't do more than that unless he wanted to risk losing his focus, and possibly a finger.

"Hey Simone!" Ash said, clapping her delicately on the shoulder. Misty fumed, though she had no reason to. If anything, that greeting had been a little _too _casual. What did she really have to fear anyway? "So, are there any good specials tonight?"

"Hm, well, we have the miso and maki roll combo. But I don't think that would be enough to curb your appetite, would it?" She laughed, he joined her, and Misty blinked. For some reason, that had not been funny at _all _to her. Though in any other circumstance, she would have made the same joke, wouldn't she? "And a Nigiri, Sashimi combo. . . If you're looking for something cooked, we have the shrimp tempura and lo mein, but it's a little pricey. It's supposed to feed two, you know. Why not start with an appetizer while you look the menu over?"

She handed one to each of them as she said it, Misty first and Ash second. Hey, hold on! Wasn't her grip lingering a little too long? Damnit, what the hell was that woman doing? If it wasn't completely obvious to her - though Misty didn't understand in the slightest how it couldn't be - Ash was on a date with _her_! What was Simone trying to pull anyway?

"Yeah, that's a good point since Misty hasn't been here before." The red lacing her vision evaporated immediately at the sound of her own name. She jumped and looked at Ash, who stared back confused at her strange behavior. And she noticed he was holding his menu alone, no third arm (or third wheel) attached. Was she imagining this? And if so, _why_? "So I hope you like this kind of stuff. Um, I was thinking of ordering some shrimp toast. How about you?"

"Um. . ." She fumbled, flipping over the cover of her menu and staring determinedly. Something just had to interest her! Of course she'd eaten this kind of food before, she just had to find. . . Ah ha! "I'll have an order of edemame."

The next thing she knew, a notepad was in Simone's hands and she was scribbling something onto it.

"And any drinks? We have a fully stocked bar if you're in the mood."

"Ah, no. . . I think I'd like to stay sober tonight."

Misty wasn't sure whether Ash's comment had anything to do with the last time he'd gotten drunk around her or what, but he had a weird sparkle in his eyes. Maybe he'd already had something before they left the house to calm his nerves? Come to think of it, Misty couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. She should have done the same thing. Of course she was a little anxious! This was the first time she'd gone out on a date with Ash, exclusive or not. She felt reminiscent of the old days when she'd had a schoolgirl crush on him.

If she were still that little girl, this would have been even worse because Ash had been that guy. The one she liked the most. But those feelings had never come to fruition and had fizzled out, and she'd wondered. . . but otherwise shrugged and gotten over it. That's what happened when you lost most contact with someone, wasn't it? The truth was that the heart didn't grow fonder. It grew fainter. It wasn't that she wanted to stop talking to him. She just didn't want to be with him romantically after all.

But now they were friends again. Nay, now they were seeing each other.

". . . isty? Misty!" There was a hand waving frantically in front of her face, and she sucked in a large breath of air. She had stopped breathing for a second there. What was she going on about? It wasn't supposed to be like that, was it? She was going to keep her distance, right? That's what they'd agreed on. Well, that's what she had forced Ash to agree to. "C'mon, are you okay? What do you want to drink?"

"Um. . . Just a Sprite." It took every ounce of concentration she had to say that, and she drifted off into silence again right after.

The music played in through one of her ears, soon out the other, and she lapsed thoughtfully into a bit of a daydream as she looked around at the few other customers. There was a family or two, but more than that, there were half a dozen couples. Meowth sat at the front end behind the register, counting the daily profits.

Of course, Misty couldn't help but laugh. He hadn't even noticed them yet, he was so one-track-minded. Some things never changed.

She shook her head quite suddenly. She needed to get her act together. She gripped the menu a little tighter and focused all of her attentions on it. At the same time, she decided it was for the best to start a little casual conversation.

"So. . . Simone, huh?"

"Huh? Ah, yeah, she works here part-time to help out her aunt. But she goes to college full-time. Didn't I tell you that?"

No, she wanted to tell him. And for good reason, because otherwise everything would seem even _more _suspicious. But it wasn't bad in the end. She had never been there before, true, but with all of the familiar faces, she felt a little more at ease with her surroundings.

"So Team Rocket has done pretty well for themselves, haven't they?" She asked next, trying to gulp down the stone that had lodged itself tightly into her throat.

"Yeah, they opened this place up a few years ago after moving around once or twice. They really got their acts together when Giovanni dumped them. Of course, they had a little help." Ash smiled at her almost in secrecy before continuing. "And now everyone in town even knows about their past, but we accept them."

". . . Huh?"

"Yeah." Simone was back and she butted into the conversation as she placed the drinks down in front of the two of them. "They came to Pallet a few years ago after saving up the money needed to rent the retail space. Unfortunately, they weren't welcome in a lot of other cities. Apparently they had attacked not only Ash but plenty of other Pokemon trainers across the country. So they came here because they really had nowhere else to go. In fact, they probably wouldn't have this place now if it wasn't for Ash vouching for them. Not to mention he got his mom, Professor Oak, and Tracey to back him up."

Misty blinked and turned back to Ash again, an eyebrow raised inquisitively at the news. Part of her was impressed, but another part was shrieking in anger. How could Simone know all of this stuff about her _best friend_ when she, herself, didn't know it? Come to think of it, why hadn't Ash bothered to tell her before?

Maybe because she hadn't bothered to ask. She was like the rest of his family and friends who hadn't been there during the Team Rocket reform. She wasn't necessarily sure of Jessie, James, and Meowth herself, but she would trust Ash's judgment. He knew what he was doing when it came to things like this.

But she still lacked the words to describe how she felt about Simone somehow knowing Ash far better than she did anymore. What a low blow.

"So. . ." The waitress looked a little uncomfortable too, but she shook it off so that she could effectively do her job, ". . . Do you two know what you'd like to order yet or do you still need a minute?"

"No, no. We're ready." Surprisingly, Misty was the one who spoke. Really, she had no idea what she wanted yet but she just wanted to get rid of this girl - _woman _- she reminded herself. "I'll have. . . the eel maki special." She wasn't very hungry anyway.

"I'll have what you recommended before, the shrimp tempura and lo mein."

"Oh, of course you will. Jeez, Ash, you should try dieting sometime." Simone giggled as she wrote it down again. "Okay, I have everything. Your appetizers will be out in a few minutes, and I'll check on you again to see if you need a refill or anything. But for now you guys are okay, right?"

Misty nodded and Ash gave a more friendly farewell as she walked away. The redhead found her thoughts scattered before her. Ash was looking Simone up and down in a way that said none-too-obviously that he was interested in her sexually. God, what a pig! But she bit the words back in her throat. This was what they'd agreed on. There had been no rule that said he couldn't flirt with someone even while they were in the middle of the date. She just had to pretend she didn't notice.

But it was almost as if he wanted her to, wasn't it? Why would they go somewhere with that kind of a distraction unless he had an ulterior motive? More than that, she simply didn't understand it. He had been poking and prodding her about them getting more serious for the past few months. She had continued to turn him down but that hadn't stopped him from trying, of course. Was this. . . was this maybe his way of saying he was giving up on her too?

Immediately, her mood turned sour. She had begged that he wouldn't do that. She realized she was testing him all this time but thought maybe he could withstand her selfish desire to not get hurt again. He had even said it was enough for him at the time. Then again, and she had to beat it down before the thought devoured her whole, he had plead with her on repeated occasion for something longer lasting than what they already had. And she had shot him down. Could Ash just be another guy who disappointed her?

Even now, just when she was starting to come around?

The idea shocked her as it crossed her mind, but she supposed it was no use denying it. Why else would she be getting so jealous, possessive, if she was okay with the way things were? It probably stemmed from how much she knew him, how much she wanted to know him, how she had grown to depend on him. She was a lost cause anyway. She had hoped that if she tried hard enough she could keep her distance, and therefore also keep from getting caught up in another head-on collision. What would she do if Ash hurt her just like her other exes?

And like that she knew it was over. After all, if she was even questioning him hurting her, it meant that he was capable of doing it. He had that power already. She was smart enough to know she shouldn't fight a losing battle.

Unfortunately, this didn't stop Ash from inviting Simone to sit with them for a few minutes as they finished their meal. Most of the other customers had already left, and she had cleaned all of the tables and collected her share of tips. Now she was sitting next to Ash while Misty bit angrily into her sushi, not knowing how to convey how she felt. How do you tell your date that if he doesn't stop flirting with another woman then you're going to take them both by their necks and squeeze until their heads popped off?

"I don't know, Simone. I mean, you're so busy anymore. We haven't hung out in awhile, have we?" Ash asked her, an arm around her shoulder. It didn't seem to mean anything to them but Misty swore Simone was blushing and was even eagerly accepting the attention. And she seethed as she noticed it, the thought barely coming to her that if she didn't cool down soon, her seat might burst into flames.

"I'm sorry, Ash, I couldn't help it that I had finals, could I? Luckily though," and here she caressed his chest with her arm, a silver band glimmering in the low light, "those are over, and so are my classes for the next few weeks. We can hook up again if you want. I mean, I've been lonely too. It's not just you; I haven't hung out with anyone in the past month or two. I'm constantly working to help with my aunt's mortgage and my books for class, not to mention my other expenses. You know the ones I mean." She stared up at him, and then. . . and then. . .

The moment was suddenly broken.

"Wait, Misty, don't do that!" Simone yelled, leaping to her feet and placing a hand to Misty's mouth before she could stuff a wad of wasabi straight into her mouth. "Oh my God, what were you trying to do?" She sighed, getting up and stepping away from the table. Just a meter's worth of distance.

"I was. . ." She was distracted, _obviously_, by the fact that Ash was behaving so foolhardy. If she hadn't wanted to kill Simone, she would have had the common decency to thank her, but she was sure she'd end up spitting if she talked too much. She should have just come out and tell them what she was thinking about they way they were acting together, but at the same time she knew she couldn't.

She'd dug her own grave and now she had to lay in it.

"Ash, I'll be back in a second. I'm going to get your check." Simone was staring intensely back at her, too. Why was that anyway? Maybe women's intuition was telling her exactly how Misty felt about everything.

"Hey, Misty, I was wondering. . . what are you going to do when we get home?" Ash asked her as soon as Simone was out of earshot. Misty took an extra second to find the words. This was the first time he'd acknowledged her presence in almost an hour now.

"I don't know. I'll probably shower and go up to bed. Why?"

"I was thinking. . . Simone's shift ends in another hour or so. I thought I'd go out with her tonight or something. I mean, as long as you're okay with it, you know? And since you're just going to bed anyway it's not like you'd miss me." His eyes were doing that thing again, begging her to give him permission. What right did she have to give him that anyway?

"It's your life Ash, okay? Do what you want." It hurt to say it and know she was lying to him. She had to clamp her lips tightly shut so that she didn't spew out in all honesty what she wished he would do, though she wasn't even sure what she wanted anymore. Well, she wanted him, but she really just wanted him to know they she had been stupid about them. Or the lack of them. Or whatever. If he would tell her he understood what she was saying, where she was coming from, it would be the same as accepting her. Even if it was his turn to deny her that, she had to hope it would be in only the most gentlemanly ways. If she couldn't have faith in Ash, who else was there? It was the most she deserved.

"Here you go." Simone said, handing him the small book with the receipt for their orders stored inside. Misty wished she had the money on her to pay for her half because she suddenly felt like an outsider in this dinner date anyway. Why did Ash have to pay for her meal? This wasn't a date, this was two strangers sitting at the same table and exchanging the bare minimum of conversation. But there was nothing she could do. She hadn't started her job yet (she hadn't even told Ash about her job yet) so she had no source of income. In truth, _Ash _was her source of income. How pathetic was that?

". . . Okay," Ash said, pulling out his credit card and handing everything back to her. "Give yourself a nice tip, okay? As far as I can tell, you were a great waitress. Wasn't she, Misty?" He asked, and all eyes were on her once again.

Misty gritted her teeth, bearing the agony for just a little bit longer. Ash was still dense, wasn't he? He had no clue what he was doing to her.

". . . Just. Perfect."

"Oh, yeah, Simone!" He called after her, hurriedly getting to his feet and following her to the register. "Misty said it's okay if we. . ." And from then on they were out of her range of hearing. She could only sit and watch from her table while they both exchanged smiles and familiar stares, a hug that was a little too long for her personal taste. But hey, she was lucky they didn't start making out right there, wasn't she?

This wasn't what she expected at all, she decided on the silent walk home. There was really nothing to say. She was spent and just wanted to rinse away all of her hard work with a hot shower followed by a long and comfortable night of sleep. She had a feeling she would need it in order to cope with Ash's personality the next morning. She had sort of tried too, maybe without even realizing it. She had put on make-up, given her hair a tasteful curl, dressed as if she was looking forward to it. And Ash had done what? Spent the whole time chatting up their waitress and acted as if she wasn't there. Her head spun as a wave of anger crashed into her.

But more than that, she was actually hurt. All this time she'd been telling him she wouldn't let him get too close so that this exact thing wouldn't happen to her because, well, she couldn't handle it anymore. Yet she had been closing in on him little by little from the beginning. What else could she expect? More than their romantic whatever they had going on, they were best friends. Well, she thought so anyway. And hadn't she been telling herself the whole time that she wanted to get to know him as well as she had when they were younger? But she hadn't realized until now that it only made it more impossible for her to stop falling for him all over again.

What was the difference between her thirteen year old self and her twenty-four year old self? Either way, she was attracted to Ash, her sister's pack mule, and an idiot who couldn't say how she really felt. Had she made a difference at all? Had she changed in the slightest over the course of the last decade?

It scared her to know that she was right back where she started, and now she felt like Ash would abandon her too. What else could go wrong? But she had it coming. Two sides of her battled for dominance, though she didn't care which one carried through until the end. Either way she'd lost.

She and Ash wandered in through the front door of his house. She wavered under the archway leading into the living room, maybe to figure out if she wanted some water or maybe to turn and latch onto him and tell him how torn up she was. But she wouldn't give herself the chance to act so desperately.

She was too proud for that!

Or was she too stubborn?

"Are you okay?" He asked her. She nodded, not trusting her voice. And though he gazed at her for one second longer than necessary, he didn't pry. Instead he edged her along. "Well, goodnight Misty. I hope you sleep well. Oh, and I'm sorry if it didn't go exactly as planned. I forgot how nice it was to spend time with Simone, so I guess I got a little absentminded. But as long as you're okay with it," he grinned at her as though thanking her for the blessing she'd bestowed upon him earlier, "I'm going to go freshen up real quick before you take over the bathroom, okay? By that time, Simone should be off so I can give her a call."

He sounded really excited. He sounded as excited as he'd been when he'd first told Misty how he felt about her. So that meant. . . that she wasn't so special after all. She finally understood. She had kept him waiting too long. She couldn't believe the irony of the situation. All of those years ago, she would have died if he had walked up to her and told her he had feelings for her the way she did him. And now he had openly admitted to it and been so endearingly patient while she recovered from her one-too-many broken hearts. But he wouldn't wait forever. Nobody had the time for that so she couldn't hold him accountable for it.

Ash didn't wait for her response, shuffling around her and marching into the living room, through the darkness. Still his steps were cautious since he didn't want to bump into anything. He flipped the switch at the bottom of the staircase, and light flooded from the upstairs hallway.

She was watching him walk, walk away. . . She clenched her eyes tightly shut at what she was about to do. God forbid. . . she really wanted him to herself. She just hoped she didn't regret it.

"Ash, wait!"

OoOoO

**Notes **- Hahah! Don't doubt the awesomeness that is Chibi! She's losing sleep so that she can catch up on all of her old Poke-fics! It's so weird. I mean, I hate to say it, but for while there I had pretty much given up on Pokemon and AAML. I mean, I made the very occasional video, but I didn't read any fics or look at any art, and I was so uninspired that I couldn't think of anything to continue my own fics. I felt so guilty about it, too! I mean, I tried. I sat there in front of my laptop for hours, and I would fall asleep thinking about them, hoping that something would just pop into my head. . . but nothing came.

But I'm going to keep trying, okay guys! And you can help by reviewing and telling me that you're still waiting for those updates so that I know it's worth working so hard for you! Please do this. I know it's been awhile so at some point I start to feel like I've been forgotten. I know that's partially my fault, but all it takes is a few words of reassurance to perk me up, you know? Thank you to anyone who does as I ask.

Also, look forward to another one-shot coming soon (hopefully). It's definitely a work in progress, but I'm using these updates on SKoL and IS, and that other fic I posted recently to boost my ego so that I can write this one. It's not too AAML but it's definitely a good idea (maybe)! I hope you look forward to it!

**Spoiler **- Misty has finally gotten a taste of her own medicine. Now it's time for her to face the consequences of putting Ash's hopes on hold for her own selfish desires. But was she really so bad to him? Well, Ash may just surprise everyone. And what is her new job that she has yet to tell anyone about?


	13. Help Me Be Who I Want to Be

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual _series_. . .

**Notes **- At last, the thirteenth chapter of SKoL is up! I'm so happy to have gotten this far, and curious as to if anybody is still a fan of this fic. It's been too long. . . Sorry for the lack of updates. I had made a deal with myself awhile ago (after putting up chapter twelve) that I would focus on IS since all that was left was the epilogue before coming back to this. And then, when I _did_ finish the epilogue, I just. . . couldn't think of anything. I had about two paragraphs on this thing for so long. . . I hate writer's block. With a passion. Kill it with fire! (Sorry, I've also been watching a ton of Dragonball Z abridged.)

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Pokemon **- "The Strangest Kind of Love"

**Chapter Thirteen **- "Help Me Be Who I Want to Be"

**Fic Facts**:

**Summary **- Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.

**Rating **- Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.

**Characters and Ages** -

Ash / 23

Misty / 24

Brock / 26

Tracey / 25

May / 19

Drew / 20

Gary / 24

Delia / 45

Professor Oak / 49

(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)

The idea for this fic was created in **August **of **2005**.

This fic was officially started in **March **of **2006**.

This chapter was officially started **October 10, 2010**. And it wasn't posted a year later this time! Amazing!

**O**o**O**o**O**

"Ash, wait!" She couldn't help but notice that her tone of voice had sounded a little more desperate than she would have liked. Then again, she hadn't wanted to sound desperate at all so the acknowledgment didn't mean much.

But perhaps it was that tone that caused him to stop in his tracks just as he was about to reach the staircase.

"Hm? What is it, Myst?" He asked, turning to face her with an unreadable expression. He probably knew what she was going to ask of him, was probably dreading it, because as soon as she finally did explain to him what she was feeling, he would have to tell her what she'd already assumed he must have chosen.

He would tell her that he wad waited a long time to hear those words from her but, unfortunately, it had been too long now. Besides, she wasn't the only pretty face around. He had Simone, and she had remained emotionally connected to him throughout the years while Misty had lost contact, only reaching out once every few months. Who cares how close the two of them were now when she could walk away again at any moment? No, he would explain to her, he was a grown man who had been looking far too long for someone to get serious with. He couldn't just wait to see _if _their fling would develop further while time continued to move onward.

"Ash, uh," but developments had taken place, hadn't they? Misty could still remember being fourteen years old and too anxious to reveal her feelings to an emotionally (and sexually) immature Ash. It was always more complicated when one liked their best friend, wasn't it? Perhaps that was why she'd put distance between them, because she didn't like the odds of those complications coming to pass. "You said if I wasn't okay with it then you wouldn't go, right?" But she was ten years older now, for better or worse, and she had decided she wouldn't mind taking that leap. What would she run the risk of losing other than perhaps this new start with her life?

"Oh, yeah, I did say that." He gave her a strangely tight-lipped smile, as though hoping to spare her grief, before continuing to speak, "Is that what you're saying then? That you don't want me to go with Simone?"

She pretended to think it over, as if she really needed to. Or maybe she did.

"Yeah," she wished she could resume breathing sometime soon, or else she would drown, "th - that's what I'm saying."

"Oh. . . and why is that?"

Misty blinked. She hadn't expected him to need a reason for her to tell him all of this. She had just thought she would tell him to stay and he would. Or maybe he wouldn't. The point was that she hadn't exactly planned for an explanation. But Ash looked as though he would only wait around for the duration of her excuse. . . So what was she to tell him now?

That she was jealous of Simone stealing him from her? That she had just mysteriously realized that her feelings for him were far greater than those she'd been feigning for the past couple months or so? But hadn't she known all along that their relationship had the potential to be something serious and worthwhile? She was just worried after so many failed attempts, worried that she would end up stuck like she'd been when she was younger, wedged between her responsibility to the Gym and her feelings for a thirteen year old Ash. Or worse, she might end up tossed aside because she moved too fast or two slow, because she did or didn't want to commit, because she had expected to take one path in this relationship and had ended up ushered onto another, because her partner had wanted more out of her and she had somehow failed to give.

But she'd known for awhile now that she had just been. . .

"Scared." She heaved a breath as she unleashed the truth, Ash raising an eyebrow but remaining silent so that she could elaborate further, "I was scared because, for so many years now, I've gotten my hopes up, over and over. I was such a romantic when I was a kid so as soon as I grew into myself and realized that there were guys who liked what they saw, I was baited. I figured it would be simple. If he could recite a sonnet and flatter me then surely this guy would be my happy ending. But no, it wasn't that simple at all. Daisy, Lilly, Violet - they all made it look so easy, whether what they were doing was right or wrong. I finally figured it out at some point though." She felt her head drop downward automatically as though ashamed, "No matter if they were dating a fan, a model, an actor! They were always the one in control, whereas I. . ." She faltered here, not sure if she wanted to admit to that fault of hers just yet. The truth was that she had always been looking for someone who accepted her, loved her, without any conditions.

"But when you told me how you felt, it was even worse. So many guys have said the right thing to me only to end up disappointing me or being disappointed with me. Ash, you take that fear and add in the fact that you've been my best friend since I was twelve years old and of course I was going to run away!" She hadn't realized that she was practically yelling at him now, nor that he had yet to look offended and was taking it all in stride. "I mean, because I'm always so insecure and I like to hit you when you don't pay attention or when your ego gets so big that your head looks like it's about to fall off, and not to mention I'm loud and. . . and maybe those are good qualities to have in a best friend but in a lover?" She had to stop here and catch her breath, finally giving Ash a chance to catch up.

"And speaking of loud," he started pointedly, deciding to open with a joke. "It's fine, Misty. I really didn't need you to tell me all of that. I just wanted you to admit that you'd be oh-so lonely without me here to keep you company."

"Ash!" She shouted, her panic evaporating into frustration. She had just spilled all of those embarrassingly personal feelings when all he'd wanted was her to whimper for him like a puppy. Worse than that, he was choosing to ignore everything she'd just said, even when she'd more or less admitted to wanting more than a fling with him.

Ash had always been rather dense - a recent testimony to this fact being how he'd openly flirted with Simone while he'd been on a date with Misty - but he really hadn't figured it out? It was probably as Misty had surmised then. He didn't want her anymore. If he did, he would have leapt at the possibility of her saying she wanted to start an exclusive relationship with him.

"It's fine, Myst, don't worry about it," he told her with a wave of his arm. Apparently he had mistaken her despondent expression for anger at him leading her on before, "Let me just call Simone and tell her I won't be able to make it tonight. Then we can just watch television until we fall asleep or something, I guess."

For the first time that evening, Misty felt the twinge of guilt bite at her conscience. Ash sounded like he'd really been looking forward to going out, hadn't he? And what about Simone too? Misty didn't know her well, told herself that she shouldn't feel bad when she was simply fighting for her territory, but still. . . Simone was obviously a busy person. She attended college and worked, she must have been helping out a lot at home too because she had to be living with relatives for a reason, right? Misty felt her stomach churn at the thought that she was indeed ruining a good thing by holding Ash back.

Still, she followed him over to the video-phone anyway, as if worried he would have some sort of trouble communicating the message to her _rival _that the two of them would not be going out that night.

Ash picked up the receiver and dialed a phone number he had previously committed to memory. Misty couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever been able to remember _her _phone number. Probably not, considering he'd rarely called her while journeying after she'd left him in Viridian City. And whenever she did receive a call, Brock was always at the front of the line, meaning he was probably the one in charge of such information.

But this was no time to increase her hostility, was it?

"Ah, hey Simone!" Ash explained as the young woman with raven hair (currently bundled up in a towel since she'd just finished showering) answered wit ha smile. She always seemed openly friendly with Ash, didn't she? Misty had never been sure if that was because Simone was a people-person or if she was just that flirtatious.

"Oh, Ash, what's up? I rushed home as fast as possible after we finished closing down. I thought I recognized your phone number when it came up. . ." She tapped a delicate index finger against her chin before deciding to go on. "So what do you need now? Is this about where we're going to meet up later or. . . ?"

"Ah hah, uh, sorry but about that," and he made a very familiar gesture as a hand ruffled the back of his head and he sweatdropped as though embarrassed, "It's just that I won't be able to make it after all."

"Oh, really? And why is that?" Simone's blue-gray eyes subtly averted attention to Misty as if she already knew the answer to her own question. The redhead was torn between the guilt she'd been feeling before, the unnerving tingling in her spine, and the dread that she would always be at odds with this woman when it came to Ash because both of them happened to _want _Ash. But even now, the same question begged her attention. Why the hell did everyone need justification from everyone else? Ash asking Misty _why _he should stay home, Simone asking Ash _why _they couldn't go out. . .

"Why. . . ? Well, that's easy. . ." Ash laughed for a moment, which caused Misty's confusion to grow, "Because our master plan worked, of course!"

"Wait, what-" Misty had just enough time to ask before Simone responded.

"Wow, so it worked, huh? Good job, Ash!" And they both laughed together, leaving Misty feeling humiliated and isolated. "I almost didn't think it would though. I mean, I was hanging all over you back at work and she just sat there and let it go on." Simone finally turned to look Misty in the eyes and made the first verbal exchange between just the two of them. "You're kind of stubborn, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?" Misty yelped, still waiting for someone to explain what was going on to her. And even worse than that, what right did Simone have to say such a thing to her? The two of them were rather hostile with each other, weren't they? Or at least she had thought so for awhile now. She had always been so bitter towards girls who threatened to steal Ash away from her when she was younger and it seemed that that trait had carried on into adulthood. But perhaps she'd been wrong. . . ?

Ash interrupted her before she could ask any questions.

"A _little _stubborn? Geez, Simone, you should see her self-destructive behavior! She won't accept help from anyone unless we force it down her throat! She would rather suffer than be happy because she thinks happiness only leads to suffering anyway. . ." He took a moment to draw breath here before continuing, ". . . Not to mention that just ten minutes ago, she admitted to being scared to take a chance with me, and that's why she's been rejecting me for so long." His tone turned suddenly somber here as he continued, "I haven't told her yet that I understand what she means or that I'm grateful she would finally tell me about those fears."

Misty, who had been bristling with fury at the start of Ash's statement, felt her negativity wash away a little bit. He wasn't wrong anyway, was he? She hadn't even thought of it so much before but ever since the beginning she'd been holding herself back where it counted. She didn't get away from Cerulean until she'd fainted and been hospitalized (even though she'd already known she needed to), she didn't ask for any "charity" from her friends until there had been no other choice, she didn't tell anyone about her sisters complaints as to her coming home until she'd been cornered - first by May and then by Ash. She had even hidden the voice mails she'd later received because she thought she deserved the punishment.

And, well, as Ash had just said, she had known for awhile the extent of her feelings for him. After all, it wasn't the first time she'd been jealous or possessive, the first time she'd been shrouded by his words and actions. She just couldn't bear the thought of diving in wholeheartedly just to end up drowning later on.

Misty was sure more than ever that she wouldn't be able to break free from him or the others, and she doubted that would be her only choice if something were to go wrong between them. Ash was her best friend for a reason, even after all these years. But she'd been hurt enough by people that she'd barely known compared to all of her years with him. To be frank, she simply couldn't fathom where he gathered his courage from, to pursue something meaningful with somebody that he'd known for as long as he'd known her.

Even if that was the very same thing she'd wanted all along.

"Well, it looks like you two have some things to work out, huh? Thanks for calling to let me know how it worked out Ash. Good luck to the both of you!" Simone waved at them both with an innocent smile. "See you some other time."

After Ash disconnected the call, Misty realized it was just the two of them again. A hollow discomfort settled in the pit of her stomach. She still had no idea what was going on, but apparently Ash and Simone had planned something together. Whatever it was, it proved Simone's honest intentions, or at least she thought it did.

"Are you ready to talk yet, Myst?" Ash asked her, swinging around to look her in the eyes. Misty felt her face heat up though she wasn't sure if she was anticipating something good or bad based on that question. But she nodded anyway and took a seat in the armchair beside him, as if collapsing from relief.

"Uh. . . What were you guys talking about, how everything went according to plan?" She murmured, anger prickling at the back of her consciousness. She was a smart person after all, and being tricked by Ash of all people? It seemed so impossible, so unheard of. The worst part was that she probably already knew what had gone on. It wasn't such a complex series of events and after she'd gotten over the initial shock. . .

"Oh, that. Well it was getting kind of boring watching you force yourself to take your time with our relationship, plus I'm a naturally impatient guy so I asked Simone to help me out. Admittedly, we might have pushed you a little too hard. But whatever."

"Oh no, Ash, it's not like there's such things as boundaries or a line you probably happened to cross. You know, next time you should just use the literal flaming bridge. One choice over here, the other over there, leading me to the conclusion that I could do myself wrong and be defeated by my own doubt, wallowing in pity because there don't seem to be any second chances." She had her arms crossed and scoffed at him, although her anger had basically dispersed over the past few minutes. Now she was just nervous about where they'd go from here.

"Eh, but you already made your choice so you'll just have to deal with it," he told her with a shrug but a reminiscent wink in his eye, as though the advice hit closer to home than the two of them chose to acknowledge at the time, "Everyone's been there at some point or another, you know? Besides," and his sober expression quickly morphed into a smirk, "you want me, you know you do! Or are you still," he put on a doe-eyed stare and a high-pitched, horrible interpretation of her voice, "scared because for so many, many years you were subjected to torturous rejections that you simply couldn't endure anymore - oof!" He grunted after Misty had decided she'd had more than enough and leaned over to elbow him successfully in the ribs.

He chose to keep silent long enough to see if she'd bruised or cracked anything while Misty took it all in. She was just about to say something to him when he risked speaking to her again, but in a more suitable tone.

"Look, I'm sorry if you think I went too far or if I did something that was so wrong. The truth is that you. . . well, you're the only one that _I _want so I guess I might have had some, uh. . ."

"Selfish intentions? No kidding. You put me through a lot of grief tonight, Ash. It seems like all you really wanted was to prove a point or sate your own ego. But-"

"-That's not it, I swear that wasn't what I was going for. Well, maybe a little, but not exactly. What I was trying to say was that nobody should hold themselves back from what they really want. I - I mean, you told me about all of those fears that were keeping you between a rock and a hard place, and then you put yourself on the line anyway. So even if I were to tell you now that I'm only human and there's still a good chance I could hurt you somewhere along the way - maybe even multiple times - despite being your best friend and knowing you so well, what would you say? Would you take it all back and hold everything in for awhile longer?"

Misty contemplated this, as though the knowledge had blind-sided her. Or maybe she had already reached her decision and was just faking it to make him sweat it out a little.

"No," she finally said, "I'd probably tell you the same thing I'd intended to before you interrupted me." He flinched as though expecting bad news even now, waiting out her hard stare. "I. . . want you too, Ash. Only you. Even if it means risking my safety or my expectations or my hopes."

"Yeah. I sort of hoped so," he replied with a small, content grin.

He leaned over to his right as though to embrace her but she leapt up from the armchair and reappeared at the staircase a moment later.

"Wait, what are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Hm? Oh," she faltered long enough to give him a proper explanation, "well, I have work in the morning. I almost forgot about it. Anyway, I have to get up early so I'm going to turn in for now."

"Wa - wait!" This was not how he'd imagined the rest of his night turning out. He had expected Misty to break down and then he would hold her close and comfort her until that comfort had turned into the heat that they would have to strip naked to endure. And then they would do a little bit of this and a little bit of that. . .

And then he blinked, the last part of her statement finally fazing him.

"What did you say you were doing tomorrow?"

"Oh, you know, it's work. I've almost finished my probationary period."

"Your _what_?"

"Well, I've been there almost three months, part-time, so soon I'll be working alone, without supervision, and. . ." He tuned her out here, trying to figure out when she must have started this mystery job in order to have been there for so long already. That would put her starting date at a week or so after her break-up with Derek Martin.

Come to think of it, Misty had told him on the night of her last date with that guy that she'd found something promising, however the evening's events had put the great reveal on hold and Ash had never bothered to ask anymore from her the next day, eventually forgetting her even mentioning it. Since she'd never elaborated on it, he'd just assumed that all of the time she spent outside during daylight hours was spent _looking _for a job, not actually holding one already!

"But still, you mean to say you can't even afford a little bit of time for me tonight?" He practically whined at her, stumbling up from the small stool placed in front of the video-phone. But he stopped soon after that, his gaze focused on the index finger Misty raised at him a moment later..

"Ah, you see, I probably would have except for that little stunt you pulled on me earlier. You thought I forgot about it?" She asked him with wide eyes, but her gaze sharpened into a glare a split second later, "You put me in quite a predicament, Ash, let me tell you. How could I say no to a little bit of retribution?

"Vengeance," and the redhead flipped her hand around, her index finger vanishing and her middle finger replacing it, "it's a bitch, isn't it?" And then she leapt up the stairs two at a time, closing the door to her bedroom before hearing him whine in reply.

"Not cool, Myst, not cool at all!" Ash shouted at her in frustration but refused to move just yet so he huffed, crossed his arms, and kicked up his legs across the length of the couch. And still, he couldn't help but wonder where. . .

**O**o**O**

The next morning provided evidence that Ash had not yet learned his lesson. He spent the better half of the early morning poking and prodding Misty as she put on her light touches of mascara and as she feathered her hair. He stood outside the door to her room and continued asking senseless questions about the newest secret she seemed to be keeping from him. He would have even shadowed her _into _the room had she not locked the door on him. However, ten minutes later, she was forced out or else suffer the displeasure of being late. And Ash had realized a long time ago just how punctual she was.

"But you know what? Fine Ash! If you can finally shut up about it, I'll show you exactly where I work. Just please, please, I am begging you to be quiet during the time it takes to walk there. I don't want to have to hurt you. . ." Misty finished, one hand to her temple to show she was nursing a headache and the other slipping on her shoes beside the front door.

"Well I don't know, Myst, that sounds kind of kinky. You definitely caught my attention. . ."

"Gyaa!"

He decided to tail her anyway, out the front door and down the short path to the gate and the sidewalk beyond. The whole time he was forced to endure her hard glare, both daring and tempting him to continue annoying her.

"For God's sake, Ash, you're not twelve years old anymore. If you want my attention, you don't have to work so hard for it. Fighting with me just to catch my eye - that's what an elementary school kid would do to flirt with a girl. It's like pulling on my pigtails. . ."

"Uh huh."

". . . Or pushing me in the sandbox. . ."

"Yup."

". . . Or holding my Goldeen plushie hostage," Misty huffed before turning and noticing for the first time that he wasn't paying attention to her, his eyes glazed over. "Wait, wait! Ash, why the hell do you look like you're reminiscing in fond memories? We fought nearly everyday! Pikachu Thundershocked us all the time! Brock had to carry a pharmacy's worth of aspirin in his bag! Everyone was always laughing at us, saying we obviously liked each other romantically and that there was a hidden meaning to every single word we spoke and. . ." She sounded quite embarrassed when considering such things.

". . . Wait," Ash blinked as if finally understanding what she meant. "A - are you telling me that we were practically dating as early as age twelve?" He actually faltered in his step, a hand sweeping along his scalp as he began to figure it all out, deciphering every moment he would have only gawked at confusedly when he was younger. "So those times when I thought you were interested in other guys like Danny or Fiorello or Rudi, and then when girls like Melody or Macey were acting forward, asking me out or kissing me on the cheek and you just suddenly appeared and had something to say about it. . . Holy crap!" He exclaimed finally, causing her to jump, "We were jealous of each other! We totally liked each other back then! Misty, why didn't you ever say anything?"

She stared at him, eyes wide, trying to come up with the best way to explain those stupid fears she'd had when she was younger. Of course, outright rejection was a probability, but worse than that, she'd always assumed that having a crush on a girl was a foreign concept to Ash. Maybe he wouldn't laugh at her or turn away. . . but staring at her as blankly as her Psyduck until she was forced to withdraw was. . . Well, it was worse that way, wasn't it?

"W- well, why didn't _you _say anything?" She shrieked at him with a very expressive flailing of her arms. of course, then he proceeded to give the answer she'd expected all along, though it at least seemed to take the spotlight off of her.

"Well, it's definitely not because I just realized all of this barely two minutes ago, that's for sure!"

"Always one step - or should I say ten years - behind. I honestly don't know how you. . ." Misty scoffed, intending to insult him further if only to help soothe her bruised ego. Ash was definitely batting a thousand here. Firstly, tricking her into plummeting through a negative spiral of thought and then, secondly, reminding her of why she'd chosen to give up those feelings she'd had for him all those years ago, even if only to save face. That was to say, she had fully intended to continue insulting him except his next choice of words completely disarmed her.

"Heh," he couldn't help the pretentious - (that's right; egotistical, smart-assed, _pretentious_) - chuckle that escaped him at first. Misty blinked, about to ask what he meant by it, but he explained himself without further prodding on her part. "I never noticed I was such a little Casanova when I was younger. I mean, _all _the girls wanted a piece of me. I even had my own _best friend _falling for me. Oh yeah, I am _good_."

"E - excuse me. . . ?" Gods, as if his head needed to be inflated anymore! She definitely had something to say about that little line of his but was interrupted by the nearby cathedral bell striking nine o'clock with the start of the new hour. She snapped rigidly to attention at the sound, taking off in near-flight down the street.

"Crap, crap, crap! Now I'm already late!" She shouted in what appeared to be agony.

"Barely," Ash managed to huff as he jogged steadily after her. It wasn't until they'd reached a familiar bend that it seemed to dawn on him just which direction they were headed in, "Wait, Misty, why are we running towards the. . ."

But alas, they weren't just running towards it. They had already dashed past the open gate and up the steep walkway. This wasn't what he'd expected. Not that it didn't make sense but still, he just hadn't seen it coming. Misty was pretty good at keeping secrets, he realized. Hadn't she told him that once? That there were things she'd kept from him for years that she'd never admit?

Misty took a moment to brush herself down with her hands before ringing the doorbell to the Oak observatory and research lab.

"You're working here? How? _Why_?" He asked her.

"Why not? It's close by, the pay is good, there are benefits, I'll be associated with the Pokemon League again - but on my own terms, and I get to work with Pokemon all day - not to mention the number one authority in the world on Pokemon discovery and study. I don't see a problem."

"It's not really a problem, I was just curious. Professor Oak never needed more than one full-time assistant before, even when Gary decided to become a researcher and send all of his data back home too. I mean, I haven't seen the Professor recently but I didn't think he'd suddenly gotten so much busier, especially with my mom there to help him." He really seemed to be thinking this whole thing through, although his thoughts came to a train-wrecking halt when he caught Misty's bewildered gaze boring into him. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well, I was just pretty sure. . . I thought he mentioned telling you. . ." Misty had a finger to her chin in thought, "Ash, Tracey's leaving. He's going on a trip around different regions to find things to use in his next book. And then he'll be touring to help promote the book-" The door finally opened to reveal the very same person they'd been talking about.

"-What?" Ash yelped. No, no; he definitely hadn't been told anything about that.

"Oh, hey guys, good morning!" Tracey greeted with a wave of his arm and a smile.

"Hey, how come you didn't tell me you were leaving, huh?" Ash shouted right away, side-stepping Misty and pointing at the Pokemon Watcher-slash-accomplished author accusingly.

"Ah. . . ? But I thought it was obvious. . . I told you awhile ago that I was starting work on my next book. I had to travel around for the other two, didn't I? Of course I'd have to do it this time too. My publishers said that it's expected of new names on the market."

"What the hell part of the adjective _'dense'_ do you two not seem to be getting recently? All of those _obvious_ things that are so _easy _to understand and that I should - _of course _- be getting. . . Since when don't you think I need things spelled out for me, huh?"

Ignoring Ash's apparent temper tantrum, Tracey held the door open so that the two of them could enter and follow him towards the staircase leading to Professor Oak's private office.

"Actually Misty, you're just in time. A handful of new trainers are on their way here now to pick their starter Pokemon. You should go upstairs and help the Professor set up so you know how to do it alone next time. I'll be there in a minute to open the registry database so you can upload their digital trainer licenses to their Pokedex."

Misty nodded at the mention of this task before starting up the stairs finally to begin her day's work. This effectively left Tracey and Ash alone, though that may have been the plan all along.

"Sorry, I thought you knew. But don't worry. It's not a big deal. I mean, I'll only be gone for a year, a year and a half tops. Besides, this is good news. Now Misty has a job too. She's been working as hard as possible to gain all of the experience she needs. She's really enthusiastic about it. Even if something were to happen and my trip was postponed, I wouldn't want to take this opportunity from her. Would you?"

"No." He'd answered the question without even thinking about it. "She could be happy here with friends and kinda-sorta family. I think it's what I've wanted for her for a long time. Plus she has more talent than to waste away her hours at a stupid convenience store because her sisters can't make or stick to a budget." He gnashed his teeth, a little irritable at the memory of how exhausted and strung-out Misty had been before they'd moved in together. "I guess the same could be said for you. You're my friend too, Trace. I just got used to seeing you around all the time and figured that the monotony of all of us being close by one another was permanent. That wasn't fair of me. So I'll suck it up and wish you luck like I should've done from the beginning."

Ash held out a hand and Tracey grinned, accepting the gesture.

"You're a good friend, Ash," and it sounded like Tracey might have been meaning to add, _I know I can count on you_. "So it sounds like you've matured some about your feelings for Misty. How are the two of you doing?"

"Oh, uh, heh. . ." Ash laughed anxiously with a hand crawling to the back of his neck. He glanced around to make sure nobody could listen in (bossy redheads who could PWN him in a battle of both wits _and _physical strength at the top of the list) before responding, "I think I've been, uh, restrained? Or maybe-"

"-Ash, since when are you into stuff like bondage?" Tracey asked with wide eyes, "I mean, since when have you even known about it? I never would have pegged you for. . ."

"Wait, what? No, I'm not talking about that! I was trying to say that I'm pretty sure Misty's grounded me. You know, I thought she needed to admit something to herself, like how she really felt about our relationship, so I sort of tricked her into thinking that there was no other choice in the matter and now. . ." Ash looked suddenly grievously harassed as the palm formerly at his neck rose into his scalp, "now she won't let me touch her at all!"

"You're. . . you're really broken up about this, aren't you?" The Pokemon Watcher asked with a sweatdrop. It was kind of strange to be holding this conversation with Ash of all people. When you'd known someone as long as they'd known each other, you really needed to mentally prepare yourself for the metamorphosis that an adolescent made upon reaching adulthood.

"Of course I am! Jeezus, man, she walks around the house in a tee-shirt, usually one of mine! And there's rarely anything underneath!"

"Uh, Ash, maybe you should. . ." Tracey attempted to hush him, eyes glancing haphazardly up at the Professor's office on the second floor as if in warning, though the younger of the two men didn't seem to heed it.

"And then she gets all subtle and seductive in the morning when she knows I'm awake! She'll pretend to be sleeping still and push her chest up to my face and wrap her legs around mine and. . . But as soon as I try to do anything, she pretends to wake up and acts like she never noticed a thing! It's a lie, a lie I tell you! And it drives me insane!" He looked the part too, his hands running repeatedly through his hair before falling limp at his sides. He released a heavy sigh before opening his mouth, perhaps to continue, but Tracey attempted to put a stop to it, pretty sure if he heard anymore then he'd end up imagining such things (which was pretty easy for an artist to do) and then he'd end up with a nosebleed.

"No, seriously Ash, methinks you should quit before you-" But, ah, too late!

"-realize you said or did something you might actually regret?" A third voice rang from the top of the stairs. Both guys craned their necks and caught sight of Misty standing there, a slightly crude smirk on her face, although it was hiding a very uncomfortable blush. Such a thing meant that she'd obviously heard at least the previous few minutes of discussion and was not pleased by it.

"Ah, Misty, we were just-"

"-Tracey, the Professor needs your help accessing the database. It looks like the password was changed recently and you're the only one with clearance to do that." It was an escape if ever he'd heard one, and the Pokemon Watcher risked dashing up the stairs two at a time and running right past Misty even though she looked like she could clearly maim him if she happened to catch him in time.

It was a miracle that she let him go at all.

Ash was definitely stuck between a rock and a hard place at the moment but decided that if he was going down, then he might as well go down in flames. So, with that thought in mind, he turned away from Misty and began to walk towards the long hallway leading to the preserve, probably to go see Pikachu before returning home, and whistling innocently all the while.

"So, what? No excuses? No apologies?" She shouted after him, starting down the stairs as well so that they could have this talk face to face.

"What are you, crazy? Wait! Don't answer that." He turned to face her again before continuing, "Why should I apologize because you're happy? That just seems ridiculous. And what's more is the fact that you can't even seem to admit it. We hit a milestone last night but all you can focus on is the means to that end. Why can't you just accept that you don't mind where we are now?"

"Happy; well I'm definitely not happy with you spreading our business around like some disease! And for the record," she'd finally reached him now and placed a finger to his chest, continuing to poke him with each syllable that she spoke, "I - did - not - know - you - were - aw - ake. But it felt good to lay next to you like that so I couldn't help wanting it to last a little longer! And don't think that I never noticed those _little hard-ons _you got while you waited for me to move."

"Now hold on just a second! I hope you aren't implying something because there's definitely nothing _little _about me!"

"Th - that's not what I meant at all!"

"How come you're suddenly so embarrassed about it? For goodness sake, Myst, you're in your mid-twenties! Of course you're going to have sex! Let alone the fact that, as I just found out about twenty minutes ago, we've been leading up to this since we were kids! I'm _still _trying to figure out why nobody ever told me!"

"I never told you because you would have been too stupid to understand what I was saying! You said so yourself! Every time I even imagined walking up to you and telling you how I feel, every time I wondered about your reaction, it never once included you mysteriously realizing that you obviously felt the same way! Besides, what would you have said? If you're so confident now in thinking you should have been made aware, tell me what you would have done if I _had _told you!"

"Well I. . . I would have done something! I mean, I probably wouldn't have kissed you or anything and we definitely wouldn't have become a couple because, let's face it, you gave me enough brain damage when we were strictly best friends back then! But I would have said something to let you know you weren't alone somehow! I would have cared!"

"But I already knew you cared, you idiot! The day we separated in Viridian City, you told me everything I needed to hear to know that, somewhere deep down inside that pea-sized brain of yours, you understood my feelings and reciprocated them! Why else do you think I was so content when I left for Cerulean?"

"But if you know I cared, if you've known all along, then why are we fighting?" He finally yelled at her.

"Jeezus, Ash, I don't know! Maybe it's because of the crap you tried to pull last night! You're not supposed to be that guy! You've never been that guy!"

"_What _are you talking about?" As soon as he'd finished posing the question, the both of them happened to quiet down enough to catch their breath. They stood there, shoulders heaving and faces flushed, Ash waiting for an answer that Misty still didn't have.

"I. . . I mean. . ."

"Oh, Ash?" Both of them jumped before turning around and facing Delia, who had just marched back inside from the preserve hall. She was wearing a large hat and gloves, an apron tied around her slim waist and a watering can in her hand. "Honey, when did you get here? I hope you were on your way to see me!" She gave him a smile and placed the gardening tool on a nearby desk, approaching him and enveloping him into a tight hug.

"Uh, yeah, of course, mom. . ." But more than that, he couldn't help asking when she'd finally let him pull his head free so that he could breathe properly, "So, uh, h - how much of that did you happen to hear?" Because Ash had always kept his sexual activities to himself and his friends, wondering if his mother had even acknowledged the fact that he was an adult. (Then again, she never said anything about him drinking, so who knows?)

"Hm? Oh, not much. I was just outside in my small plot of land. Sam let me put in a garden here too." She couldn't help sighing lovingly at the thought of how much her husband cared for her. "I only heard you shouting about not knowing what you were talking about. Or something to that effect. . . Oh, Misty! How are you, dear?" And she pushed her son aside, quickly pulling Misty into an endearing hug of her own.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Ketchum, just getting ready for work. You must have really strong hearing if you could understand what Ash was saying from all the way outside. After all, he definitely doesn't know what he's talking about, does he?" And she gave an airy laugh with a cutting undertone, ignoring the glare she received from him.

"Oh Misty, give my Ashy a little credit! He's grown up to be quite the independent young man." And Mrs. Ketchum finally broke apart from her hold on the redhead and stared fondly at her son. "Now, given, he was a little slow on the uptake when he was younger but I like to think - hope - that he grew out of that as he got older."

Ash flinched. It really sucked when his own mom didn't mind bluntly insulting him, even if she didn't realize that's what she'd been doing.

"Anyway Ash, Pikachu was wondering about you this morning so it's probably good timing that you'd show up today. How about I make us all a snack and we go out back to see her?"

"Wow, mom, that sounds great, except. . ."

"Oh, but Misty has to work so maybe it'll just be the two of us?"

"You know what? That sounds great!" Ash smirked, eyes on Misty in wait for her reaction to such news. She didn't seem as torn up about it as he'd hoped, though she was probably just as pleased to be getting away from him. He wouldn't have time to ask any questions about what she'd last said to him during their argument, which would give her time to either falsify an explanation or blow it over with something else.

In fact, she had just the thing.

"Yeah, sorry Mrs. Ketchum, but I really should be going back upstairs." The doorbell rang, interrupting her train of thought. "In fact, those are probably the new trainers coming to pick their starter Pokemon so I'll go let them in. And as for you, Ash, I'll let you off the hook," she waited for a moment to make sure he understood what she meant by saying it that way, "if you agree to tell me everything."

"Everything? What are you-"

"-That's for me to know and you to freak out about until I decide to let you in on it. See ya later!" And she turned tail and ran back towards the front lobby to let the children inside the lab.

His mom didn't seem to be paying him anymore attention, her mind focused on what snacks she should make and if she should include a little extra for her husband and his assistants upstairs.

And as Ash's brain activated to try and figure out what Misty had meant by _everything_, she in turn discovered that her ploy to distract him had worked for sure.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Notes **- Okay so, yeah, this definitely took too long to be written. I'm so sorry, guys. After working my butt off to finally finish IS - (holy poop! It's done!) - I thought I would be able to put this out right after but I think I spent all of my inspiration on that epilogue so. . . yeah. I just couldn't think of anything for a long time and SKoL sat there gathering dust. But I recently felt the beginnings of plot bunnies developing to I took advantage of that. Well, actually, I started on maybe two or three other ideas but then I put them down like a good author because I knew I should be working on this fic instead. Aren't you proud of me?

Also, I'm very upset at you all! How come I posted a one-shot and received only three reviews? And I practically had to bully two out of three of those reviewers! This just makes me sad. I mean, what kind of world do we live in where someone has the time to read something that an amateur author put all sorts of effort and time into and yet they can't take thirty seconds to five minutes to review it? It's really disappointing because I thought it was a good fic (although I've been told it "broke the fourth wall") and the reviewers thought it was a good fic and, given, it wasn't any sort of outright romance, but there was some fluff littered here and there and I just _don't _get how people can read something from someone they respect or appreciate and not say anything after. By the by, I'm not talking to random people who clicked the link to the fic. I'm stating this message for the two hundred or so people who added me to their alert lists, and the two hundred and fifty or so who have me on their favorites lists.

But whatever. I don't feel like ranting anymore about that. (Though I do have another, completely unrelated thing that I'd like to rant about. . .)

One last thing; please ignore Ash being a whiny little crybaby in this chapter. Oh, wait! One last-last thing! Who else found it hilarious that I made fun of Ash's penis? It was significantly fun to write all of it. . .

Please review this time! I was really excited because chapter twelve received a record number of reviews compared to any other chapter in any other fic I've ever written. I was really excited. I pray that I can break three hundred reviews with this one. . . Please help me reach that goal!

**Spoiler **- Ash is told what Misty meant by "everything", though it's definitely not what he expected at all, as they begin discussing someone he thought had been cleared of all involvement. And then, later on into the week, Misty turns suddenly abstinent towards a sexually frustrated Ash who thought that he'd been forgiven. But all of this leads up to the coup de grace as she confides in him about her complexity (hasn't been mentioned since chapter one) and Tracey leaving to journey to other regions for his next book.


End file.
